


Italian is the new Trigedasleng

by Nekef



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, American stereotype, Angst, F/F, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Graphic depiction of Italian food, I have too many clexa feelings not to try to write this, I'm italian and our english is so bad, Italian Language, Italian stereotype, Italian!Anya, Italian!Lexa, Lexa is a nerd and a dork, No one dies but they eat way too much italian food, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Smut, italian language kink, spanish!costia, stereotypes here are funny not offensive i swear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-21
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-06-09 19:05:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 61,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6919438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nekef/pseuds/Nekef
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lexa is a brilliant italian girl who has received a scholarship at Polis University, in America.<br/>Clarke is a brilliant artist who is crazy for italian accent.<br/>They end up living in the same dorm.<br/>Oh, the odds!</p><p>Or the italian girl trying to write in english because, seriously, you just can't learn it in Italy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I’m an italian girl and I’m trying to write a fanfic to improve my English, because in my country to really learn it well you have to pay a native language teacher and take lessons and it’s really really expensive. So this story is sort of an experiment and will probably be full of errors and I will really appreciate any feedback, suggestion and revision, even a “don’t ever write again please” review.  
> I’d also love to have a beta reader, so, if someone wants to help me, let me know!  
> Also I don’t really know how American colleges and universities work, I read something but it’s really confusing so I’m going to follow the high school movies stereotype and make things up. In my country you choose a city which has different “facoltà” ( I don’t think that the translation ‘departments’ fits very well but nevermind” for every course of study and you essentially live in that city, going home sometimes. Someone goes home every few months while some guys go home every weekend because usually you study not too far from your hometown (I live in a city that’s 80km far from my home, so I often came back home for a weekend). I hope I won’t write anything too unrealistic, if so, let me know!  
> I wanted to write a fun story about Italian stereotypes and after the s3 finale the clexa’s feelings came all over me so i started to write.

### Chapter one

_Breathe… just **Breathe.**_

The Airport is crowded and huge. She absently watches random people running around her with suitcases and backpacks, and for the millionth time she tells herself she has made the right choice.

She heads to the exit carrying her own huge packages, her sister’s voice echoing in her head _Lexa DEVI andare! Una borsa di studio. In America!_

It’s such an amazing opportunity, Lexa knows it. Polis University offered her a Computer Engineering scholarship, but at the moment, alone, in the airport,  she can only think that she is so fucked.

Lexa scans the sea of people waiting at the arrivals’ exit and feels relieved when she reads her name on a sheet of paper, held by two thin, dark, hands. She watches the woman who’s waiting for her with an inquisitive look and a serious smile. she approaches her while she feels her own heart pounding in her ears.

“Lexa Woods?” The woman asks as soon as she is in front of her, Lexa nods and the dark skinned woman speaks again before she can say a word “Welcome! I’m Indra” Indra looks serious but kind, her brown eyes are deep and she scans the girl in a swift look before gazing at her straight in her eyes.

Lexa smiles shyly to her, recognizing the name of the contact person of her scholarship. She shakes her hand with decision swallowing her agitation “It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m so honoured to be here and to be given this opportunity”.

She hopes that her accent doesn’t sounds too… italian. Despite her American last name, her dad’s family has been living in Italy for generations and every connection with the native land has been forgotten since long time. except for the passion for uncommon names.

“We are honoured to have such a brilliant mind in Polis University, we are sure you’ll prove yourself a talented student and you’ll live up to our expectations” Indra speaks with a reassuring smile but Lexa can see the seriousness in her eyes. Eyes that say _Don’t fuck up._

She lifts her chin, self-confidence hitting her like fresh air, helping her to breathe and to calm her pumping heart “I’ll do nothing except my best”.

“I’m absolutely sure, now, shall we go?” Indra gestures towards the glass door at the end of the long corridor and Lexa just nods before following her.

Indra starts explaining how the courses and campus life works and Lexa listens quietly while they head to a big, totally american style, car, decorated with the crests of Polis.

She tries to hide a smirk, that car is an emblem of the american stereotype. They get in the car, Lexa’s luggage in the trunk, and the girl brings her full attention back to Indra, she asks her few questions while the woman starts the engine.

She tries to relax in the seat during the way but her mind is so full that she fears she’ll get a migraine. She just traveled across half the World and she only wishes to sleep until the end of her days on Earth

Indra drives quietly when she ends her explanations several minutes later and Lexa takes her time to think of what she is into. A 19-year-old who received a scholarship in one of the best universities in America thanks to a project she has made with her dad’s tech company. She knows she is a brilliant girl but the Polis’ offer was totally unexpected. She was still in highschool, ready to graduate and already looking for an university in Italy when she has received a letter from Polis, telling her they were impressed by her work and they were ready to give her a scholarship in Computer engineering.

Lexa was totally shocked, it took her over a month to actually reply to the letter, her family and her sister pushing her so hard to accept that sometimes she just wanted to emigrate to Australia and disappear from the world.

She feels her heart pounding in her ears again and she swallows the thick knot in her throat while she comes back to reality. She tries to enjoy the view from her window, pushing her thoughts away, but all she can hear is the buzzing sound in her head.

“Here we are, this is the campus, I’ll show you your room and let you set in. Tomorrow morning there will be a meeting for exchange and foreign students at 10 am.” Indra’s eyes stay focused on the road, while she parks the car in a huge, almost empty, parking and turns off the engine. She then exits the car without even letting Lexa answer and the girl quickly follows her.

She takes her luggage and they head to the building in front of them, it’s not high, maybe two, three floors, but is much larger than Lexa would have expected.

While they walk through the corridors the girl notices that the majority of the rooms are still empty but she is not surprised, the university recommended her to arrive quite ahead of the start of the semester to settle in properly.

Indra is not very talkative and Lexa can’t say she doesn’t appreciate it, so she doesn’t say a word during the way. Eventually they stop in front of a closed door and Indra takes a key from her pocket and lends it to the young girl, gesturing her to open the door.

Lexa takes the key after a moment of indecisiveness and bashfully opens the door. She walks in the almost empty room that still smells of fresh paint and the sharp scent stings her head, her headache now unrestrained. A bed, an empty shelf, a desk and a door which probably leads to the bathroom. And nothing else.

“Welcome to Polis” The older woman lingers on the frame of the door, a flash of a smile on her lips before she is serious again. “Thank you” Lexa answers with crocked voice and her mouth is so dry that she thinks she ate sand for dinner.

“On the desk you’ll find a map of the campus and notes about meetings for new students. I guess you need some rest now, so I’ll leave you. If you need anything just come to my office” The dark skinned woman gestures to the desk and following the movement with her eyes Lexa see the map and a paper with a timetable and some notes.

“Thank you again… for everything” Indra just nods before leaving, closing the door behind her and the girl realizes just in that moment that she still have her backpack on her shoulders.

She takes it off and suddenly, in the moment she puts it on the desk, she is too tired even to think and she throws herself on the mattress. Not even bothering covering it before falling asleep, a single thought in her mind: _Cazzo._

 

 

 

 

A Week later the campus starts to come alive. Everyday new students arrive and fill the rooms, some of them already knowing each other. Lexa feels less lonely despite the fact she didn’t really talk to anyone yet, except for some small talks during the meetings with random students. Their names instantly forgotten by Lexa. In her defense she was accustomed to a totally different kind of names and in that place apparently everyone was called Mike, or Matt, or whatever.

A knock on the door makes her lift her eyes from the book she is reading, lying on the bed. She rises from the bed in a swift motion and she briefly readjusts her dark green sweater and her light blue jeans before opening the door.

In front of her stands a blonde girl, slightly shorter than her, with soft blue eyes and it took everything in Lexa not to hold her breath in front of the unexpected beauty that knocked on her door.

“Hi! I live in the room in front of yours and they just delivered me a pretty huge pack with like a hundred of labels with ‘Lexa Woods’ or strange Spanish things written on them… so I though maybe it’s yours?”.

“Oh Signore.” Lexa covers her eyes with an hand and sighs heavily before massaging the root of her nose between two fingers. She realizes she has spoke in italian only when she lifts her gaze on the blonde girl again and she sees amusement and confusion on her face.

“I’m so, _so_ sorry! It’s from my parents, my grandma actually, and they’re so… never mind. Thank you for taking it, I’ll bring it in my room right now” Lexa can feel her cheeks reaching the temperature of the Sun when she sees the girl staring at her in awe, with her lips slightly parted.

There’s a moment of embarrassing silence before the blonde speaks again “Oh no no! Don’t worry, it’s nothing”. The girl looks intensely at her for just a second before realizing she actually has to move from the door to let Lexa exit the room. She takes few steps back looking away from Lexa.

The flustered Italian girl quickly grabs the package and drags it in her room, trying not to show how much the damned box is heavy. She places it in the middle of the room with a light grunt.

She looks at the huge box for a second, shaking her head _Io li ammazzo._

Lexa comes back to the door frame, resting a shoulder against the wood “Again, I’m really sorry, my parents sent me some things that I couldn’t bring with me when I left”

“I told you, it’s really not a problem, don’t worry so much” the blonde gives her a warm smile, the awe again in her face while Lexa talks “So uhm… Lexa Woods? It’s not a very Spanish name is it?” She smiles again and Lexa swallows, looking at her bright blue eyes enlightened by that killer smile. She notices the tiny beauty mark above her lips and it drives her a little insane for a millisecond.

“Actually I’m Italian, but you’re right anyway, not a very common name in Italy as well. My grand granddad, or something like that, emigrated in Italy from USA, and my dad has a passion for peculiar names… so here I am.”

Lexa smiles, regaining her composure. She lightly tilts her head to the right, looking nowhere except directly into the girl’s eyes.

“And you are..?” She sees the blonde jump a little at the realization that she hasn’t introduced herself. the girl comes closer to her, stretching out her hand “Sorry, I’m Clarke”

Lexa takes her hand, a smirk on her lips when she feels the softness of Clarke’s palm and sees her cheekbones blush. "A pleasure to meet you, Clarke, savior of my absolutely embarrassing package” She slightly bows her head before letting Clarke’s hand go.

The sound of her name coming from those lips, and, above all, how Lexa’s tongue encircles the ‘r’ makes Clarke’s mind fuzzy for a second and she misses the chance to say something back.

 “Is there something I can do to thank you?” Lexa smiles and Clarke smiles back, lightly shaking her head “ Just… Can I ask you what’s in the box? I’m deadly curious”. Lexa laughs briefly and Clarke is charmed by the sound and by the way Lexa closes her eyes, lost in her gesture for a moment. When the brunette regains her composure she can’t help herself from smirking, knowing that only non Italian could ask what a package from an Italian grandma could contain.

“Food Clarke. Lots of food.”

 

 

 

Clarke comes back to her room after few minutes spent talking to Lexa.

As soon as she closes the door her roommate, a dark haired, skinny, girl, stands from her bed. She looks at her with an amused smirk “Sooo… talked to the hot stranger girl?” 

Clarke looks at her friend with her mouth slightly open, trying to put her thoughts together for a second “She’s Italian Raven. And her accent is… Raven, She’s _Italian_.”

She just can’t think of what to say, still in awe for Lexa’s eyes, Lexa’s lips, Lexa’s clothes and Lexa’s fucking accent.

“Uuh… tell me more. Now.”

“There’s no more, we just talked for few minutes and I gave her her package”

Raven watches the blonde for a moment before she burst into laughter “ Oh my god, you totally have a crush on the italian hottie!”

“What?! No! I don.’t even _know_  her! I barely know her name” Clarke glare at her friend with searing eyes, her cheekbones impossibly red.

“Yeah… I guess you were too focused on her _tongue_ ”

 

In her room Lexa stops the music on her phone for a second, sure she has heard a scream coming from the room in front of hers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations
> 
> -Lexa DEVI andare! Una borsa di studio. In America!  
> -Lexa you HAVE TO go! A schoolarship. In America!
> 
> -Cazzo  
> -Fuck
> 
> -Oh Signore  
> -Oh God
> 
> -Io li ammazzo  
> -I’ll kill them


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!  
> I wanted to thank everyone who commented and/or left kudos. You made me so happy that I almost spent the whole day writing and so here I am, posting another chap.  
> A lot of italian in this chapter for all you italian!Lexa lovers!  
> And again correct my mistakes so I can improve!
> 
> P.s. English verb conjugation is a f*** nightmare.

### Chapter 2

  
  


Two weeks after her arrival Lexa has explored pretty much the whole campus. The first thing she has been looked for were the kitchens, obviously, and the realization that almost nobody uses them in the dorm has shocked her a little. How do these guys even _survive_?

On the other hand, the discovery has made her more relaxed, because that means she can cook whenever and whatever she wants without bothering anyone.

She has explored the whole, amazingly huge, park that surround the campus, happy to have somewhere to go running and practicing like she’s doing at the moment.

The weather is still warm and with only jogging shorts and a tank top, earphones pumping music in her ears, she has ventured into the park, randomly meeting other students running like her or just laying on the grass, enjoying the last days of freedom before the beginning of the lessons.

After an hour or so she heads back to her dorm, her breath slowly calming down and the sweat sparkling over her forehead. She goes to the kitchen, deciding to have a coffee and eat something before coming back to her room, and finds it empty as usual.

Unplugging the earphones she drops them, along with her phone, on the table in the center of the room and she opens one of the fridges. It’s half full only with white plastic boxes with her name written on them. _Ma questa gente cosa mangia nella vita?_

The thought that almost no one of the other students has stored food is really something that she can’t understand. She can almost see her grandma, opening one of the fridges and fainting in front of the emptiness.

And especially in front of the fact that she can’t cook something for her granddaughter right in that moment.

In Italy every grandmother’s dream is to cook _every single edible thing_ they have in their houses to feed their poor too-skinny grandchildren, and the poor grandchildren must. Eat. All.

Even if the above-mentioned grandchild has just eaten.

And, yes, even if you’re fat your grandma will think that you suffer undernourishment.

Lexa smiles at the picture in her mind while she takes the coffee jar from the fridge, she recovers the moka-pot that she brought with her from home and she starts filling it with water, adding the coffee powder to the filter after she has placed it onto the base of the moka.

She puts the moka on the flame and opens again the fridge, digging in the significant amount of food to find a jar of homemade jam and a thin slice of, nedless to say, homemade bread.

She opens the jar with a resounding pop and Lexa takes a moment to just smell the scent of plums.

It’s so familiar that makes her homesick and she eagerly takes a spoonful of jam, spreading it on the bread after a second.

She has just taken the first bite of the bread with the jam on it when she hears some light footsteps and, turning her head to the door, she sees Clarke entering the kitchen.

The girl looks surprised to find someone in the room but, after a second, she greets her with a warm smile, moving closer to Lexa who’s still chewing.

“Oh.. hi” Clarke allows herself a moment to enjoy the sight of the hot Italian stranger.

The impossibly long, muscular, legs covered only by shorts, the toned arms slightly curled, still holding the bread close to her mouth, the brown shiny curls tied up in a pony-tail and those two green, piercing, eyes fixated in their own.

She can almost feel her lungs knocking onto her ribs to remind her she actually has to breathe to stay alive.

Lexa swallows before answering with a warm smile “Hey… how’s going? Are you settling in?” She lowers her arms, holding the slice of bred only with an hand and resting her hips against the counter behind her.

“Yeah, everything’s going fine. How about you? Must be a big change coming here from Italy” the blonde smiles again but Lexa doesn’t miss how she curiously watch what she is eating. She can almost see the Italian stereotype fluttering in a bubble above her head.

“I’m fine, everything is really different from Italian university life but I like new adventures… so it’s ok” Lexa takes another bite of her bread and chews slowly, enjoying the homemade flavours that are making a party in her mouth.

Clarke slightly nods, unable to stop her eyes that randomly wander between Lexa’s eyes, legs and hands “I’m happy you feel comfortable here, college life is crazy, you’ll enjoy it”.

She sees the Italian girl watching her entirely for just a moment, the green eyes scanning her body in a flash “Oh… I’m sure I will” She answers slowly, the typical Italian ‘r’ rolling in her mouth, and Clarke can feel goose bump running through her arms in the exact moment the sound leaves Lexa’s lips.

“So… Are you hungry?”

Clarke regains her composure, unsure if she has been lost in the memory of that sound for a second or for an hour, and she nods “ Sure, what are you eating?” She looks at Lexa expectantly and the brunette offers her a smile.

“Bread with jam” She answer, seeing a flash of disappointment in Clarke’s eyes that makes her smirk knowingly. The blond briefly watches Lexa’s lips, not allowing herself the thought of just how much she loves that damned accent of hers and focusing on the fact that she was expecting something better than bread with jam from an Italian girl.

“ _Homemade”_  Lexa adds after a second, nonchalantly pretending not to have planned the whole thing.

Clarkes focus immediately her glare in Lexa’s own and she can’t help but smile, her eyes growing big with eagerness “Ooh, made by the famous grandma?” She asks, unable to contain a small laugh when Lexa sighs at the memory of their first meeting

“Who else?” She answers after a moment, a smile on her full, pink lips that Clarke doesn’t miss. She then places her slice on the counter and opens the fridge, taking another slice of bread and then covering it with a layer of soft jam. She hands the bread to Clarke.

“Here, try it” Lexa says with a knowingly look in her eyes but Clarke hesitates for a moment, looking between those beautiful green eyes and that beautiful slice of bread multiple times.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to eat your supplies”

Lexa can’t contain a bursting laugh at those words and she abandons herself in it, closing her eyes with amusement and slightly bowing back her head at the thought of running out of food.

Clarke watches her in awe, admiring how the laugh enlighten Lexa’s hard lineaments and she bites her lower lip for just a second before trying to focus again on the conversation.

“Oh c’mon Clarke” A shiver runs through the blonde’s spine “ We both know that my relatives are already shipping me another huge and entirely labelled box full of goods” Lexa smirks and hands again the bread to Clarke who takes it after only a moment of further hesitation.

She looks at Lexa with a little astonishment.

“Really?”

“Definitely”

Clarke laughs briefly and Lexa joins her, then the brunette watches her intensely while Clarke takes a moment to admire the dark colour of the marmalade and the creamy texture.

It’s so different from the bright coloured jams she is used to eat that, for a moment, she wonders if it’s burned or something like that.

She then resolve that she’s just too curious to second guess Lexa’s grandmother’s cooking skills and takes the first bite.

“Oh m-od” The sound is muffled by the food in her mouth but Lexa can say from the instant lust in Clarke’s eyes that she is enjoying the simple snack.

The blonde chews the bread with abandon, forgetting, for a moment, that she is in front of Lexa, who’s watching her with an amused, and proud, smirk.

It takes everything in Lexa not to laugh and, with her lips sealed, she only lets slip a puff from her nose.

The jam is thick and perfectly amalgamated, sweet but with a sour sting at the end that drives Clarke’s taste buds into space.

And the bread is so soft inside and the crust so crisp that the blonde just wants to eat Italian bread and nothing else for her whole life.

“Oh my God. _Oh my God_ “

Lexa laughs again, briefly, and watches as Clarke takes another bite, closing her eyes again while she tastes the flavours.

“Yeah I got it. It’s just bread Clarke”

The blonde has the neat sensation that Lexa keeps repeating her name just because the girl has noticed the effect that the word has on Clarke and enjoys the power she has over her thanks to just a name.

She ignores all the thoughts about _that tongue_ and about Lexa’s accent because dealing with a source of lust at a time is more than enough, and, at the moment, the bread she is holding in her hands is driving her rather insane.

“It’s not _just_ bread. It’s like the most amazing bread I have ever had in my whole life and I don’t want to never ever eat different kinds of bread from now on.” She says in disbelief, unable to understand how Lexa can savour things like this everyday without giving everything up to live by the fridge day and night, just eating.

“Eh Madonna”

Clarke almost chokes on herself and tries to disguise her cough with a strangled laugh.

Is this girl trying to kill her or something like that by randomly dropping Italian words like this?

Without even a warning, like a ‘Clarke hold on your hormones for a second because I’m going to speak Italian and smash your ovaries right now’ warning.

“Sorry, sometimes Italian just slips. But Clarke I’m serious, it’s just one of the thousand kinds of bread we have in Italy. What will you do when I’ll make you taste a real Italian specialty?” Lexa raises an eyebrow while she speaks and Clarke knows that the girl is just messing with her on purpose, letting slip the innuendo so casually.

And God knows how much it’s working.

In less than five minutes she has learnt that two stereotypes about Italians are totally true: Their food is absolutely amazing and they _all_ embody the definition of latin lover.

“I don’t know, maybe you should try and see” Clarke answers with a smirk that Lexa doesn’t miss to notice and she looks at her lips for a moment before turning her gaze back to the blonde’s impossibly blue eyes.

Does it even exist in Italy such an eye colour? She doesn’t know.

 Maybe Clarke isn’t aware of how hot she is. Lexa doesn’t exactly knows what the beauty standards are in America but that girl has something she has never seen back in her country.

And she can’t say she is not bewitched by Calrke’s features.

Her straight nose, her small light pink lips and her defined lower jaw are exotic and absolutely charming for her. And how she can looks so pretty and at easiness in just a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt is out of her understanding.

Maybe she is too accustomed to Italian standards, where girls are always wearing make up and are almost all the time dressed with branded clothes.

Clarke, on the other hand, just looks clean, and she has a unique way of being beautiful in her simplicity.

Lexa is distracted by the bubbling sound coming from her back and, pushing aside those thoughts she really shouldn’t have on a almost stranger, she looks at to the source of the soft noise.

She turns off the flame and she carefully pour the hot, smoking, coffee from the moka in a small cup she has retrieved from the sideboard above her head.

“I promise one day I’ll cook for you an amazing Italian dinner” Lexa says while she turns to confront Clarke again and the blonde’s eyes grow bigger, a smile on her lips.

“You can cook?” She asks after a second, a bit amazed by the revelation.

“I’m Italian.” The brunette answers, her brows slightly frowned,  as if that simply explains everything and Clarke laughs, letting Lexa enjoy the chirping sound.

“It’s not an answer! Does that mean that everybody in Italy is a Chef?”

“No, but I don’t know anyone who can’t cook at least one traditional recipe from their region or a decent meal”

For a second Clarke thinks that Lexa is joking, but the girl looks at her without a sign of mockery on her face. 

“Are you kidding me? Half of my friends can’t even make pancakes, and I can barely cook a steak”

It’s Lexa’s turn to be shocked and she watches Clarke as if she is saying that is possible for a rock to float on the water.

“Really? That’s… insane. What do you eat everyday? Don’t tell me you guys only eat at Burger King, or whatever, because I simply don’t believe that is even possible”

“Of course not but we often eat take away food, sandwiches or very simple meals. Like steaks or pasta and we can only make one or two recipes”

At the word ‘pasta’ she sees Lexa stiffen and trying not to clench her jaw and Clarke barely contains a laugh, remembering in that moment how much Italians love their typical food and how much they brag about it.

The girl doesn’t say anything for a moment while she shakes lightly her head.

“I’ll make you pasta one day. And don’t ask for spaghetti with meatballs or that Alfredo thing because they don’t even exist in Italy. And I have to warn you, if you put _ketchup_ on it I’ll just have to kill you”

There’s a moment of silence between them, in which Clarke doesn’t miss to think just how much sensual the word ‘spaghetti’ sounds when pronounced correctly with the Italian inflection.

Ok, this is a lie.

It just sounds hot when pronounced with Lexa’s inflection.

They both start to laugh at the same time and they are both so captured in the moment that Lexa doesn’t spill her coffee only thanks to God’s intervention.

When she starts to breathe again she takes a sip from the tiny cup while Clarke looks at the coffee in Lexa’s hands with renewed curiosity, taking another bite of the bread, God’s name echoing again in her head.

“I’ll ignore your obsession with your Italian food but I take that as a promise you know. You’ll cook for me some heavenly Italian dishes and I’ll just sit, eat everything and be very, very happy”

Lexa smiles while she takes a second sip and looks at Clarke with a shine in her forest green eyes.

“Deal” She simply answer before emptying the small cup. She then puts it on the counter and takes her slice of bred, resuming her snack.

“Let me guess, that was your traditional, perfect, only-way-to-make-it coffee wasn’t it?” The blonde asks with mockery in her voice, before eating the last bite of the bread in her hands with a mental sigh of satisfaction.

“Hm-mh” Lexa answers with her mouth full of food, not giving to Clarke the pleasure of being even slightly touched by her friendly sarcasm.

“I’d offer some to you, but I fear it’s a little too strong for your American taste”

Clarke sees the playfulness in Lexa’s eyes and she snorts lightly before snapping her tongue, not missing a beat.

“Oh Lexa, trust me, you know nothing about my taste”

 

 

 

Heading back to her room Clarke has to admit to herself that _maybe_ Italian coffee is a bit too strong for her taste, but she would have never said that to Lexa.

She has drunk her coffee without a single emotion on her face and she has said that was perfectly bearable for an average American blonde girl, but, now that she is alone, she wish she could wash her mouth with muriatic acid.

That was the bitterest thing she has ever eaten in her whole life. It was dense and with some sort of cream on the top of it and maybe with some sugar she could have even liked it.

But _obviously_ Lexa has said that sugar would have ruined it.

Clarke snorts at the memory but can’t help a smile on her lips.

She enters her room and she finds Raven at her desk, the girl lost in one of her huge Electronics books, earplugs in her ears.

Clarke laugh lightly at the sight, Raven is such a nerd.

“Hey pretty Engineer”

Raven, acknowledging her presence, turns off the music and turns her head to look at the blonde.

“Hey pretty Italian girls lover”

“Oh, shut up.”

Raven laughs at the snapping and watches Clarke while the blonde throws herself on the bed, turning on one side and resting her head on a hand so she can see Raven.

“Where have you been? I thought you only wanted a glass of water” The brunette looks at her with genuine curiosity and Clarke knows that the moment she’ll tell her what happened Raven will start making fun of her.

“I invited Lexa to join us tomorrow night… She still doesn’t know almost anyone here” Clarke bites her tongue the moment she ends the sentence and Raven lift one brow, silent for a moment, lips slightly parted as if she doesn’t know from where to start her teasing.

“And you spent _an hour_ in her room inviting her to our little party?”

 Clarke rolls her eyes, not surprised by Raven’s instant teasing.

Raven laughs at her, waiting eagerly for her to answer, ready for a intense make-fun-of-Clarke-Griffin session.

“I wasn’t in her room, I met her by chance in the kitchen and we started talking, so I ended up telling her about tomorrow and at that point I simply couldn’t not invite her”

“Riiiight, and that’s the only reason why you invited her?” The brunette smirks, she knows that she is going to piss Clarke off but she just can’t help herself.

“Oh, fuck off”

Raven laughs before regaining her seriousness when she hears Clarke’s sigh.

“Look if you really like her why don’t you ask her out?” She asks, rising from the chair at the desk to join Clarke on the bed. They lay one next to the other, on their stomachs, like they did on the grass in the garden of Clarke’s house, when they were children.

“I don’t even know if she’s into girls. I think she flirts with me but I don’t know nothing about Italians. I mean what if this is only the way they are with everyone? I have always heard that they are affectionate and open with anyone. And what if she has someone in Italy? I mean did you see her? How can she be single? What if I ruin a friendship that’s barely even started and make a fool of myself?” Clarke blurted out the flow of words hiding her face in her pillow, trying to ignore Raven’s small laugh.

“Clarke if you’re scared of asking her out just try to find out if she’s into girls and if she’s taken. She’s coming here tomorrow night, bring up the boyfriend topic and you’ll know. Plain and simple” She pats once on Clarke’s shoulder while the blonde girl dramatically sighs against the pillow.

She knows that Raven is right and that she has basically invited Lexa to the party to hit on her with the benefits of having alcohol in her veins, but, at the same time, she just doesn’t want to know the truth so she can just keep dreaming about the way Lexa says her name.

 “Raven” She says after a while, the sound muffled by the pillow against her face.

“Hm?”

Clarke lifts her head and looks at her friend with awe in her eyes, a loving smile on her lips.

“You really have to try Italian food.”

 

 

 

 

Turning off the water Lexa wraps herself in a soft towel, ending the tune she has been murmuring during her shower with a deep note.

She rubs the water out of her hair with a second, smaller, towel and then she ties it up in a loose bun.

She exits the bathroom and, heading for her bed, she hears the sound of an incoming skype call coming from her laptop, which is open on her desk. She reads the nickname of who’s calling her and smiles. _Anya._

She takes the computer and puts it on the bed, answering the call while she heads to the wardrobe, searching for some comfy clothes to wear.

“Ciao sorella! Ma dove sei?” She hears her sister’s voice while she puts on a pair of slips, grey sweatpants and a random t-shirt.

“Uhm. A TonDC, in un college Americano?” She answers sitting on her bed, eventually facing the laptop and smiling at Anya, who’s watching her, through the monitor, with an annoyed face.

“Che testa di cazzo. Intendevo perchè non stavo vedendo la tua faccia.”  

“Lo so, ti prendevo in giro. Come state a casa? Mi mancate un sacco”

“Anche tu ci manchi, la nonna chiede di te praticamente ogni cazzo di giorno, se hai ricevuto il pacco, se il cibo era buono, se lo hai offerto ai tuoi amici, se a loro è piaciuto. Insomma chiamala o giuro su Dio che finirò per ucciderla. Ma per il resto stiamo bene” Lexa laughs soundly before grabbing the laptop and laying down on the pillows, she puts the computer in her lap and focuses again on Anya, who is warmly smiling at her.

“Tu come stai?”

Lexa shrugs her shoulders trying to look more relaxed about the whole scholarship thing than she actually is.

“Sto bene, mi sto ambientando e ho conosciuto delle persone simpatiche” Anya looks at her in silence, the sentence ‘who you think you are talking with’ written on her forehead “Ok, _una_ persona simpatica… ed è anche bella”

Anya is openly smirking at her now and she licks her bottom lip before speaking again “Sei lì da nemmeno due settimane e già fai strage di cuori? Wow.”

“Non sto facendo nessuna strage di cuori, ho solo detto che è bella. E penso anche etero”

“Te l’ha detto lei di esserlo?” Lexa holds her breath for a second, lips slightly parted.

She has wanted to say that she just knows that Clarke is hetero but she has realized only in that moment that, actually, she doesn’t really know if Clarke is or isn’t straight

“No” She says in the end, her voice a bit too throaty to pretend she’s not interested in the matter.

“Allora che ne sai, provaci!”

Anya is looking at her with bright eyes and a never fading smirk on her lips. She is genuinely happy for her sister, she hopes with all her heart that Lexa can settle in in the college and make some friends.

She has feared that the girl would have ended alone, maybe because of her origins or maybe because Lexa sometimes tends to be a lone wolf.

“Mi ha invitato a una festa che sta organizzando con la sua coinquilina, domani”

“Ottimo! Falla bere e chiedile se è etero, chiaro e semplice”

Lexa sighs for a moment and she looks at her hands in her lap, a lock of damp hair falls in front of her eyes and she puts it back in the bun before looking at her sister again.

“Eh, la fai facile tu.”

Anya shows her a reassuring warm smile, expressing all her love through it.

“E’ facile. Ora però raccontami tutto della tua bella americana”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations
> 
> -Ma questa gente cosa mangia nella vita?  
> -What do these people even eat in their life?  
> ‘in their life’ is an Italian way of saying that it’s a bit difficult to explain. We use it when someone does something so uncommon, for us of course, that we can’t understand how can he live with doing it. 
> 
>  
> 
> Ok, so in Italy we are kind of blasphemous so we use expressions like “oh god” “oh mother of god” etcetera for almost everything. Like when we are surprised, or angry, or startled or… everything.  
> -Eh Madonna  
> -Eh mother of god 
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> -Ciao sorella! Ma dove sei?  
> -Hey sis! Where are you?
> 
> -Uhm. A TonDC, in un college Americano?  
> -Uhm. In TonDC, in an American college?
> 
> -Che testa di cazzo. Intendevo perchè non stavo vedendo la tua faccia.  
> -Dickhead. I meant why couldn’t I see your face? 
> 
> -Lo so, ti prendevo in giro. Come state a casa? Mi mancate un sacco  
> -I know, i was teasing you. How’s everybody doing at home? I miss you so much  
> Fun fact, in Italy we say a lot ‘un sacco’ which is literally translated as ‘a bag’ and means “a lot” or “very much” 
> 
> -Anche tu ci manchi, la nonna chiede di te praticamente ogni cazzo di giorno, se hai ricevuto il pacco, se il cibo era buono, se l’hai offerto ai tuoi amici, se a loro è piaciuto. Insomma chiamala o giuro su Dio che finirò per ucciderla. Ma per il resto stiamo bene  
> -We miss you too. Grandma asks about you every fucking day, if you received the package, if the food was good, if you offered it to your friends, if they liked it. Well, call her or I swear to God I’m going to kill her. But everything else is fine  
> I don’t really know how to translate ‘per il resto’, it kinda means everything else but just to explain to you how’s the sentence is structured in Italian is like saying “We’re good in/for everything else”
> 
> -Tu come stai?  
> -How are you?
> 
> \- Sto bene, mi sto ambientando e ho conosciuto delle persone simpatiche  
> -I’m fine, i’m becoming familiar with the place and I met some nice people
> 
>  
> 
> -Ok, una persona simpatica… ed è anche bella  
> -Alright, one nice person… and she’s also beautiful
> 
> \- Sei lì da nemmeno due settimane e già fai strage di cuori? Wow.  
> -You’re over there not even since two weeks and you’re already an heartbreaker.  
> There’s no a literal translation of ‘fare strage di cuori’ that makes sense in English, it literally means ‘to slaughter many hearts’ and it’s not exactly the same thing as an heartbreaker. It means someone who fascinates lots of people, not necessarily in a bad way or with bad intentions. In italian it sounds much more romantic, I swear 
> 
> -Non sto facendo nessuna strage di cuori, ho solo detto che è bella. E penso anche etero  
> -I’m not an heartbreaker, I just said she’s beautiful. And also straight I guess
> 
> -Te l’ha detto lei di esserlo?  
> -Did she told you that she’s straight?
> 
> -Allora che ne sai, provaci!  
> -So how do you know! Hit on her!  
> The literal translation of ‘provarci’ is trying on someone and it just makes me laugh so much.
> 
> \- Mi ha invitato a una festa che sta organizzando con la sua coinquilina domani  
> -She invited me to a party she’s planning for Tomorrow night with her roommate
> 
> -Ottimo! Falla bere e chiedile se è etero, chiaro e semplice  
> -Perfect! Make her drink and ask her if she’s straight, plain and simple
> 
> -Eh, la fai facile tu.  
> -You make it sound easy
> 
> -E’ facile. Ora però raccontami tutto della tua bella americana  
> -It is easy. But now tell me everything about your pretty american girl


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Thank you all again for the kudos and comments, you are incredible. I mean 183 kudos? I thought no one would have even read this  
> Here, take some Italian!love.  
> I just came back home from holidays and I'm posting this after almost two days without sleep. 
> 
> And dulcis in fundo I wanted to thank my brand new betas: white_russian and lexfly. I will never thank them enough for their help and dedication. 
> 
> Also as white_russian suggested me I put the translation right after the italian sentence. Let me know if in this way it's easier to understand and more readable.  
> I'll just leave some sentences with traslation in notes when I want to give non-italian speakers some cliff-hanger.

### Chapter 3

  


 

Clarke should have suspected that Raven wouldn’t have helped her with setting up for the party.  In the moment the girl, two days earlier, had said that she really would have loved to invite all their friends, but she was overwhelmed with studying. 

It’s so typical of Raven, to disappear when it’s time to clean or cook, that the blonde asks herself just why she had been expecting something different this time.

Clarke sighs while she enters the common room of the dorm. It’s wide and spacious, furnished with dark green couches and armchairs and elegant coffee tables, made of dark wood, at their feet. 

There’s a pretty big television hanging on one of the walls and Polis’s green and silver crests are randomly hanging from wooden panels on the other surfaces.

There’s a pool table on one side of the room and near it stands a showcase with some trophies in it, along with a filled bookshelf. On the other side of the room sits an elegant table with some chairs.

Clark can’t help but think that going to one of the most expensive colleges in the USA surely has some benefits.

She starts picking up some paper cups that someone has left around the room, putting them in the black plastic bag she is holding in one hand.

The blonde is so lost in her thoughts that she doesn’t hear Lexa approaching her until the girl clears her throat to draw her attention.

Clarke looks at her and smiles, stopping her cleaning for a moment “Hey… did you come here to watch some tv? I was checking if everything is tidy for this evening, it’ll take me just a minute”.

Lexa raises her hands, slightly shaking them in front of her along with her head. Clarke smirks at the amount of Lexa’ s body language. 

“Oh no no, actually I was looking for you, I just wanted to ask you if you need any help”.

Clarke’s eyes grow bigger for a second, the girl a little surprised by the offer. She is so used to Raven escaping responsibility that she can’t believe that someone deliberately wants to help her. 

She eventually nods once. “Thank you. Raven left all the work to me, as always, so I’d really appreciate that”.

Lexa approaches her with a warm smile, one hand in the pocket of her jeans and Clarkes watches her from head to toe in a glance.

The brunette is always wonderfully dressed. She’s never excessively dressed up but she always looks stylish in a unique way. 

Clarke has always seen Lexa wearing branded clothes, maybe not high fashion brands, but all her clothing just looks sort of expensive for the blonde’s standard. Even now, with a pair of light blue skinny jeans and a black t-shirt, Lexa looks like a fashion model on a billboard and Clarke feels her mouth go dry.

“I’m at your service”. 

Clarke gazes to Lexa’s eyes and smirks before scanning the room in search of more abandoned cups or glasses.

“It seems everything is ok, I was just thinking about moving some of the couches to make more room”. She explains, dropping the bag she’s holding in the trash bin near the exit. 

Lexa glances around the room and then simply nods “Alright”.

Clarke approaches one of the couches in the middle of the room, Lexa already by her side, and, placing her hands on one armrest, she pushes it few steps away.

Lexa’s left hand is almost touching hers and, with a quick look to the girl’s face, she notices that the brunette is firmly watching the opposite wall like it’s the most interesting thing she has ever seen before. 

Clarke can almost feel the heat irradiating from Lexa’s body and she hopes that her cheekbones aren’t as purple as they feel.

They move two couches and a coffee table out of the middle of the room, placing the two sofas near the wall with the table in front of them. They do the same with a recliner and a cabinet.

“Thank you again”. 

“Don’t mention it”. Lexa waves her hand and then puts it again into her pocket, looking at her feet for a second.

“So… what are we going to celebrate tonight?”. 

“Nothing in particular, we just invited some friends to be together before they all leave for college like Raven and me… I honestly don’t even know where they’ll sleep tonight” They laugh together at Clarke’s admission and without even noticing they come closer to each other.

“Che pazzi”.

The blonde looks at Lexa with parted lips, crossing her arms on her chest because she doesn’t trust herself and she fears that she will end up jumping the brunette if she doesn’t put her hands somewhere. 

“What?” She asks with a husky voice and she mentally kicks herself in her guts for being so obvious. Two words spoken in that fucking melodious language and she is already going weak at her knees.

Lexa looks like she has only realized in that moment what she has said and laughs briefly.

“I said that you guys are crazy” 

“That’s not true”. Clarke throws an outraged look at Lexa who’s staring at her with a lifted eyebrow and her lips pressed together. The Italian girl not believing her act even for a second. 

“Alright. Maybe a bit.”. 

Clarke unfolds her arms, raising them up for a second to surrender and gives up pretending to be upset. They share a small laugh. 

When they regain they composure Clarke can’t help but notice that they are impossibly close now and she wishes she has kept her arms crossed. She is sure that her heart it’s pumping so loud and so forceful that it’s going to break her ribcage.   

“And tell me..” Lexa breaks the silence and Clarke notices that she looks a bit flustered too, but she doesn’t makes any effort to move away from Clarke “Is there going to be any food?”

Clarke burst into laughter at the question and she has to sweep a tear from her eyes while Lexa watches her with scrunched eyebrows.

“Do you ever think about anything other than food?”

Lexa watches her in silence, she opens her mouth like she’s about to say something but instead she smirks and lets her gaze to wander on Clarke’s cleavage for less than a second.

“ _ Sometimes _ ”.

  
  
  


“Non ho assolutamente idea di che cazzo mettermi.”   _ / I have absolutely no idea what to fucking wear/ _

Lexa examines herself in the mirror for the billionth time before turning her gaze towards the bed, which is currently completely buried in clothes.

After spending an hour trying to figure out what to wear, she has chosen a pair of dark grey pants, a light blue button-up shirt, and a pair of brown lace-up shoes, but she still isn’t sure about her choice. 

She checks the time on her wristwatch and she realizes that she can’t change anyway or she’ll be late. 

“Amen. Chissenefrega”.  _ /Amen. Who cares/ _

She quickly cleans the bed, putting everything back in the closet before heading to the bathroom.

She puts on her light make up and she braids some of her curls behind her head. 

Checking time again she runs around the room collecting her phone, her keys and the bag full of food she has prepared. She eventually steps out of her room and locks the door. 

The girl leans on the frame for a second and breathes deeply. Everything will be fine, she needs to make new friends. 

_ Lexa non rompermi il cazzo alle 3 di notte, vestiti come ti pare e vai a quella maledetta festa.  _

_ /Lexa don’t fuck with me at 3 am, wear whatever you want and go to that damn party./ _

She has been talking with Anya earlier, her sister the only one able to ease her anxiety. In her own unique, sweet, way, of course.

She can hear the music and loud chatting from the hallway that leads to the common room. When she enters, she scans the unknown faces, searching for her favourite pair of blue eyes.

There’s just a bunch of people, some of them standing and drinking from plastic cups in their hands, while the others are sitting or laying on the sofas.

When she finally finds the above-mentioned cerulean eyes she smiles and approaches Clarke who, has been literally choking on her beer since she had seen Lexa and her outfit. Raven, who sits next to her, is already laughing, and she lightly pats on Clarke’s back to help her breathe again.

That girl, Clarke swears, has just come out from a fashion magazine. or a NYC runway. Lexa is so elegant and at ease in her clothes. Clarke can’t think of anything else to describe her, she is simply marvellous. 

She hears Raven whisper a soft ‘wow’ and Clarke steals a glance at her friend, who is rather surprised as well.

When Lexa is closer to her, Clarke notices that the light colour of her shirt makes her eyes impossibly green and shiny. 

“The knight of the Italian table has arrived”. Lexa says and theatrically puts the bag full of goods on the table in front of Clarke and Raven. The blonde rolls her eyes while Raven can’t help but laugh again.

“Lexa this is Raven, Raven this is the saviour of our bellies”. Clarke introduces Lexa to her friend and the two girls shake their hands, both of them with a smile.

“Nice to meet you”.

“So I finally meet the famous Lexa”. 

Both Clarke and Lexa watch Raven at once. The first one with flared nostrils, actually trying to kill her friend with her eyes and the second one with a curious and rather amused look. Raven just smirks.

“Am I famous now?”. 

“I just told her about your grandma and your obsession with food” Clarke answers before Raven has the chance to say something even more embarrassing and the blonde shots her friend a warning glare that makes Raven smirk wider.

Lexa doesn’t miss noticing that Clarke’s cheekbones are slightly redder than before, but she doesn’t mention it. “Well you seemed rather obsessed with my bread as well yesterday, or am I remembering that wrong?”.

Raven burst into laughter and Clarke simply can’t believe that she is between the devil and the deep sea. She doesn’t really know how to answer that, because Lexa is totally right, but she would never admit it even under torture. 

“So… If you’re done with the pestering I’d like to introduce Lexa to everyone else”. She casually changes the topic.

As soon as Lexa nods in agreement Clarke stands from her chair and she approaches her friends, followed by Raven and the Italian girl.

Lexa watches Clarke’s outfit and, looking at her ripped jeans and blue sweatshirt, she feels like she is too dressed up. But she is rather casually dressed for Italian standards and she feels comfortable, so she pushes back the thought. 

On the other hand, Clarke just looks beautiful anyway without any effort and Lexa wonders if is this the reason she is always in such comfy clothes. 

They sit on one of the couches and everyone seem to acknowledge in that moment the presence of Lexa. They all curiously look at her, someone is already smiling.

“Guys this is Lexa”.

They all shakes Lexa’s hand, introducing themselves in turn, and she’s overwhelmed by the list of foreign names. 

There’s a pretty brunette, Octavia, sitting on the lap of a dark-skinned, strong guy, Lincoln. 

A dark haired tall guy, Bellamy, that looks older than the others and is Octavia’s brother. And then Monty, Harper and Jasper.

As soon as they have introduced themselves Lexa has already forgotten half of their names. 

_ Cristo. /Jesus/ _

“Would you like something to drink?”

The brunette watches Clarke and nods “Sure… Beer is fine, thanks”.

As soon as Clarke stands Octavia is the first one who breaks the ice and Lexa looks at the girl with a grateful smile.

“So, where are you from exactly?” 

“Northern Italy, from a small town near the sea.  It’s rather famous in Europe.” 

“How come?” It’s Lincoln who asks the question.

“It’s a really ancient city with a lot of monuments from Roman ages. It has even been Capital of the Roman Empire for a while”.

“Cool”. 

“You don’t have the Italian accent I was expecting” Octavia says with a small laugh and when Lexa furrows her eyebrows as she explains herself “You know… like in TV series”

She then mimics the Italian accent, saying (more like shouting) random Italian words like ‘pizza’ and ‘spaghetti’, putting the fingers of an hand together in an attempt  of a typical Italian gesture. Lexa just laughs at the sight along with the others.

“No one actually talk that way, we do use our hands and body a lot when we talk to be honest… but just not like this”. They all laugh again and Lexa feels a bit more relaxed, she really finds those guys funny and they put her at ease. 

“Can I ask you to say something in Italian?”. This time is Bellamy who’s talking and he seems actually interested.

“Like what?”

“Anything.” 

Lexa takes a moment to think of something to say before smiling again to all of them.

“Mi fa molto piacere essere qui con voi,” she waits just for few seconds, “I’m really happy to be here with you”. 

Everyone smiles and Lexa looks behind her back to see where Clarke is.

The blonde is frozen, staring at her like she’s watching the rarest animal on Earth. Her mouth is half open and her hands in middle air. She’s holding a red plastic cup in one hand and the beer bottle in the other. When she meets Lexa’s eyes she comes out of her stupor and she resumes filling the cup, before putting the bottle back on the table.

She comes back to the couch and she sits next to Lexa again, her cheekbones burning. 

She hands the cup to Lexa who accepts it with a ‘thank you’. 

“How do you say asshole?” Octavia speaks again, and Lexa is not surprised by her question. The swear words topic is a must. 

“Stronzo”.

“And fuck you?”.

“Vaffanculo”.

Octavia looks at Bellamy “ _ Vafanculo _ ”. She tries to mimic Lexa’s inflexion but it comes out so altered with the strong American accent that it sounds like a totally different word. 

They all laugh and Bellamy rolls his eyes, looking at her sister after a second “I love you too, sis”.

They spend the evening talking, drinking and tasting all the food that Lexa has brought. 

They try Parma ham, salami and some Pecorino and Parmigiano cheese along with some bread. 

In the end they taste some simply homemade chocolate biscuits and everyone expresses their unconditional love for Lexa’s grandmother. (Lincoln asks if he can order an Italian grandma on amazon, making everybody laugh for five minutes).

They enjoy everything and, watching as they eagerly eat the goods, sighing and making muffled noise of pleasure, makes Lexa unbelievably proud.

 

Later that night she feels her mind become rather fuzzy, thanks to the alcohol she drank, as she lays on the couch, taking a sip from the red cup she’s holding.

Octavia, Bellamy, and Lincoln had left some time prior that night to go home.  Lexa had found out that the girl attends Polis too, but she lives with her brother in an apartment in TonDC, and that Bellamy works as a bartender in the city.

Raven is sleeping on one of the couches like Jasper, an empty beer bottle still in his hand. Monty and Harper had gone missing at some point in the night.

Clarke joins her on the couch, still eating some bread with ham on it. Lexa wonders for a moment how that girl can eat so much and still have a perfect body.

“I can’t believe you’re still eating. I’m so full I could explode right now”.

Clarke swallows her bread and watches Lexa, shaking her head. 

“I just can’t stop. It’s so fucking good”.

“Who’s the one obsessed with food now?”

“Shut up.” Clarke snaps, her mouth already full with another bite of her simple sandwich. 

Lexa laughs but she can’t stop watching Clarke with a sparkle in her eyes. She would like to ask Clarke everything about her, everything about her life. She would like so much to know if she has some chances with this girl. The thought that she has known her for only two weeks and she’s already so into her makes her head hurt.

The alcohol is probably not helping.

“So, you’re an artist, huh?” They had talked about courses and lessons during the evening and Lexa had discovered that Clarke is interested in Art major.

The blonde nods and finishes her bread before answering “I just really love to paint and I’d like to do that for a living, but I’m hardly an artist”

“If you’re here you must be good. Will you show me some of you paintings?” 

Clarke stares at Lexa, answering after a moment of heavy silence “Sure”.

“You don’t have to, if you don’t want”.

“No no, I do want to... I just didn’t think you would be interested”. It’s the truth, of course, but there’s another reason.

Clarke has spent the last week drawing Lexa and the thought of showing the Italian girl just how much she is obsessed with her, makes her blush.

“Of course I am”. 

They look at each other for several moments, both of them with so many thoughts in their head and so few words to express them.

“I’m glad you came, I hope you had fun”

“I’m glad too. Thanks for inviting me, I enjoyed myself a lot. Your friends are quite funny”

Clarke smiles warmly when she sees that Lexa really means what she is saying and that she’s not just being polite. Lexa’s fingers are playing with the edge of her cup, unfolding the paper with her slender, long, fingers and Clarke watches her gestures. 

She wonders if it’s only Lexa who seems so perfect in just  _ everything,  _ or if Italy is full of models and goddesses that walk around singing their fucking sexy language.

When she gazes back at Lexa’s eyes she finds the girl staring at her with her lips parted and Clarke feels the alcohol in her body screaming to her to just give up and kiss that mouth.

“Sei troppo bella per essere vera”. 

Clarke is totally dazed and feels her mind going numb. She can’t think.

She mentally thanks God that she is sitting on the couch because she feels her legs trembling and she’s absolutely certain she would have fallen on the floor otherwise.

“What?” The word is barely louder than a whisper but Clarke can hear that her voice is husky and she feels her throat impossibly dry. Her glare shifting back and forth between Lexa’s lips and eyes.

They’re so close that she can almost see every shade of green in Lexa’s eyes and she feels her breath on her own lips. It’s warm.

They almost jump oout of their seats when a loud snort breaks the silence, and all Lexa can hear is a piercing whistle in her ears. Her heart is pumping right in her throat and she unsuccessfully tries to swallows it back to its place.

They both look at Raven who snores again before turning in her sleep murmuring some unintelligible words.

“It’s late… I should go”.

Lexa is standing in less than a second, she smoothes her shirt in a nervous gesture and she looks everywhere except at Clarke who’s still sitting, her face is flushed and burning like hell. She tries to swallow but her mouth is like a desert. In summer.

“S-sure”.

“See you around”.

Before Clarke can even realize what has happened, Lexa is gone. She hides her face in her hands, unable to think about anything besides what Lexa could have possibly said to her. The foreign sweet words bubbling in her head.

Her mind is a twirling mess of thoughts and alcoholic fuzziness and she shuts her eyes, trying to think straight and to breathe normally again. When she raise her head she looks at the door, the ghost of Lexa’s breath still on her lips. 

 

Well,  _ maybe _ Lexa is into girls after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Lexa don’t fuck with me at 3 am, wear whatever you want and go to that damn party.  
> In Italian ‘non rompermi il cazzo’ actually means ‘don’t break my dick’. Lol.
> 
>  
> 
> -Sei troppo bella per essere vera.  
> -You’re too beautiful to be real.
> 
>  
> 
> p.s.  
> Who loves tomboy girls? I do.  
> Who loves tomboy Alycia Debnam Carey? I fucking do.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm adding notes to this chapter because I noticed that the Italian!Lexa AU is totally absent on this site and I see that some people are really enjoying this story (which makes me incredibly happy <3) so I was guessing if some of you would be interested in giving me some prompts for a series of drabbles, related or unrelated to the fic.  
> I'll work on them, along with the fic of course, in my little free time, but If you would like that let me know and I'll open a page on Tumblr (which almost no one in Italy use but I see it's rather popular for this kind of things, so)  
> I'm really having fun writing this fic and I'd be happy to write some of the scenes you imagine.

### Chapter 4

 

The smaller library on the campus is quiet and mostly empty. Only a small group of students sit at one of the tables made of tempered glass, pretending to develop some sort of design project. The young girl at the front desk angrily glares at the group from over her squared glasses when they laugh under their breath.

From outside the glass walls come voices of other students, muffled by the significant thickness of the wall-length window. Some of them are studying, sitting under the trees of the park and enjoying the fresh air in the shadows painted on the grass by the long branches.

A week has passed since the night of the party.

Lexa is already overwhelmed by lessons and essays to be written. She tries to study day by day to avoid being left behind, meaning that she can barely sleep a decent amount of hours each night.

Facing engineering lessons would have been difficult enough in Italian, let alone in English.

Her notes are a mess, half written in English and half in Italian. She curses in unintelligible whispers at every god or goddess who comes to her mind.

“Vaffanculo Lexa. Te e la borsa di studio”. She whispers again while she fixes her glasses on the bridge of her nose. She then proceed to reread for the thousandth time the sentence she is desperately trying to understand.          _/Fuck you Lexa. Fuck you and your scholarship_ /

It’s basically written in English with Italian grammar and it makes absolutely no sense at all. She had been rather tired that morning during the lessons, unable to focus on the teachers and their explanations, leading to subpar notes.

She had been woken up at 4 am that morning by a remarkably vivid dream about Clarke. And now she’s just incapable of chasing away the images that her brain keeps replaying in her head.

Her mind keeps picturing her almost-kiss with Clarke again and again, and she can’t help but wonder how sweet and soft Clarke’s lips would have been.

She imagines different scenarios, in a crescendo that paralyzes her brain, forbidding her to think of anything else.

She imagines Clarke kissing her on the couch, straddling her lap and gripping on her neck.

Clarke laying on the bed in Lexa's room, watching her with languid, half hooded eyes.

Clarke on top of her, with a sigh dying on her auburn parted lips.

_Smettila. **Smettila**.  /Stop. **Stop**./ _

They hadn’t talked since the party, just briefly greeted each other when they have met in the hallway where their rooms are.

Lexa knows she has been purposefully avoiding Clarke. Too scared to talk to the girl after what happened. Too scared to hear Clarke say that she was too drunk and doesn’t even remember the evening, or God knows what other excuse the blonde could say.

And the evidence that Clarke has been avoiding her as well tells her she is right to guess that the blonde doesn’t want to be alone with her again.

Lexa has the absolute certainty she has fucked their friendship up.

And it hurts her more than it should.

Because, as her dad never misses to remind her, she is there to study. To become, one day, a remarkable leader for the family company. And not on vacation.

Her family always comes first. Her _duty_ always comes first.

She knows that the scholarship doesn’t cover everything and that her father is paying even more than necessary to allow her the privileges the school offers.

She can’t betray his faith and hope. Especially because she knows how deeply her dad loves her, despite his apparent formality. He is just like Anya; a bear with a iron integrity and a hidden soft heart.

However, she could use some friends.  At least to avoid going insane before the Christmas break.

But now she finds herself alone, in a huge college, trying to figure out how she can survive and pass the year when she can’t even properly write a fucking sentence. All because she keeps crushing hard on straight girls.

_Odio la mia vita.     /I hate my life/_

“Hey... is this taken?” Lexa is startled by the unknown voice.

She turns her head towards who is talking with a bit of panic in her eyes. She feels caught on fault, like her obsession with Clarke is obvious and plain and everybody can see it written on her face.

She blinks her thoughts away, trying to find her voice to answer to the girl who’s standing next to her. “No, no.”

The girl sits and smiles, dropping her books on the surface in front of her.

Lexa notices that they have the same programming book and she suddenly recognizes who the young beauty is. They follow pretty much all the same lessons and she saw the girl smile briefly at her a few times.

Lexa doesn’t know her name and she watches the girl for several moments without saying a word. Hoping that she’ll explain why she’s sitting next to her.

She has brown hair, straight and long, with some blonde highlights and a pair of big grey eyes. They’re warm, and the unusual colour is nothing less than captivating. Long and seductive eyelashes surround them.

Her nose is small with the tip slightly lifted and her lips are wide and full.

Moreover, her accent doesn’t sound American.

“Sorry if I interrupted you, but you're following the Computer Engineering course, right?” The girl eventually asks and Lexa simply nods.

“Me too. I hope I'm not wrong, but I heard that you're a foreign student...? I’m from Spain”.

“Yeah, I’m Italian”.

“I figured out we could help each other since we’re both from another continent. I’m Costia by the way”. Costia raises up her hand and Lexa shakes it with a warm smile, happy to talk with someone who is probably as lost as her in this place.

“I’m Lexa. And I’d really like that”.

Costia seems rather happy to hear her answer and gives Lexa a wide smile.

She has perfect white teeth and she slightly closes her incredibly rare eyes when she’s smiling. She is objectively gorgeous. Lexa answers her smile with a lopsided grin.

“Cool”.

“So, What did you understand about programming class? My notes are a mess, I always end up writing them half in Italian when I’m not focused enough”.

Lexa is essentially groaning and Costia laughs, covering her mouth with an hand. She tries to not make too much noise, as to not break the quiet in the library.

The librarian glares at them with searing eyes and sealed lips. She seems ready to shoot right between Costia's eyes.

Lexa just grins at the sight, trying not to join the girl’s laugh.

The Spanish girl then opens her notebook, on the top of the book pile in front of her, and shows Lexa one page. It’s filled with words in two different languages.

“Same.”

 

 

Clarke exits the art workshop with a dreamy smile on her lips.

The class just ended and she can't wait to be back in her room to start sketching. She has a billion images twirling in her head. She can already picture them being brought to life by thin graphite lines on the smooth pages of her notebook.

She’s so happy that she can finally focus only on her art that she walks three meters above the ground. She had channelled all her feelings and thoughts in her drawing during the last week.

Her emotions were incarnated on canvases with bright warm colours. Her sensations were brought to life on the woven fabric and hid in the wide shelf of the art workshop. It all helped her to vent some of the permanent stab in her stomach.

Still, Clarke feels rather guilty because she has been avoiding the other girl.

On the other hand, Lexa hasn’t tried to talk or be with her too, so she doesn’t know how to feel about what has happened at the party.

What had began as an innocent attraction had turned into an infatuation so rapidly that Clarke couldn’t simply control it. And she doesn’t understand how that had even been possible.

After her last relationship, she believes she has become more cautious with her feelings, and more capable of keeping them under control.

But the brunette just makes it _impossible_. She makes Clarke feel at ease and comfortable while, at the same time, she makes her struggling and breathless.

The memory of Lexa’s warm breath against her own lips haunts her in her dreams almost every night. She has wanted that kiss so bad that she can’t think about it without a stabbing pain right in her stomach.

They eventually have to talk, even if the blonde doesn’t know how she’ll survive such a debate. Clarke doesn’t want to loose Lexa, she can’t lose Lexa, even if she can have her only as a friend.  

 _Even though_ , Clarke can’t help but reflect, _she wasn’t exactly acting friendly at the party. Or did the alcohol make me dream?_

She’s still wearing the clothes she had put on for the art lesson. Stains of colour peppers her t-shirt and her old ripped jeans, and her golden hair is held in a messy, loose bun.

She looks like an eccentric artist who decided to live off her art on the streets.

She’s coming back to her room to clean up before having dinner with Raven in the campus’s cafeteria. They had pretty much seen each other only at dinner the whole week; the brunette already lost in her thousand clubs and extra activities in addition to classes.

Clarke had barely turned the corner of the hallway when she hears a familiar laughs and stops.

She hides behind the edge of the wall and observes the scene with only one alert eye. She hopes that no one will notice her or she’ll succeed in losing her dignity after only three weeks in college.

A record.

There’s Lexa with a girl she has never seen before. They’re both standing in front of the door of Lexa’s room and they’re talking.

Clarke can only hear fragments of their conversation and they don’t allow her to understand the topic.

Lexa looks at ease, hands in her jeans’ pockets and her backpack hanging on one shoulder.

She has the crooked smile on her lips that has repeatedly made Clarke’s heart skip a beat.

They’re just too close.

And that girl is just smiling too much.

And Lexa’s accent is too hot to be wasted on this... whoever she is.

The brunette is saying something now, miming her hands to enrich what seems like an imitation of somebody. They laugh again. To _tears_.

The stranger puts one hand on Lexa’s arm and they kiss each other on both cheeks, saying their goodbyes.

Clarke is squirming behind her hideout, an unexpected wave of jealousy running through her spine. She feels breathless for a moment, a sour sensation over her tongue.

She knows she has absolutely no right to feel this way. Not only Lexa can do whatever she wants with whoever she wants, but Clarke has put her aside for a whole _week_.

Of course Lexa has met someone, that should have been so obvious to Clarke. She’s smart and pleasant and gorgeous. Of course it was easy for her to get to know people.

She is exactly the kind of person that anyone wants in the group.

And of course it has to be someone with a smile that could bring the dead back to life.

“Hey Lexa,” Clarke recognizes her own voice reverberating in the empty hallway.

She finds herself standing next to Lexa before she has even realized she had moved.

Lexa is facing the door, trying to find the keys in her pockets. She turns towards Clarke when she hears her. She looks surprised but her brow straighten after a second. She smiles.

“Oh, hey Clarke”.

 _God_ , she has missed that fucking rolling ‘r’ _so much_ that she almost faints right then and there. Why did she wait so long before talking to her?

“How are you?”.

“Fine, just a bit overwhelmed by the beginning of the lessons. It’s hard to follow the teachers sometimes, they speak so fast. And how are you doing?”.

“I’m well. I just love my courses. I mean my assignments are to actually _paint_ ”. The blonde’s eyes shine at the statement and Lexa feels her heart tightening in her chest. She would just like to drown in that deep blue.  

“That’s great. I’m really happy for you.”

“Thank you”.

“Art class this afternoon, huh?” Lexa smiles, pointing Clarke’s dirty clothes with a wave of her chin. The blonde gazes at her own dirty shirt before looking at how Lexa’s dressed and she blushes. Lexa is astounding as always with a pair of boyfriend jeans and a cashmere grey sweatshirt which unfairly fits her.  While Clarke is dressed like a homeless person.

“Uhm yeah, these are my workshop clothes. Sorry I’m a mess”.

“Don’t worry, you look rather cute all covered in paint” Lexa smiles again and Clarke can swear her own legs are shaking.

She’s flirting. It can’t just be her imagination.

“Oh uhm, thanks?” Clarke smiles sheepishly, her cheekbones slowly turning pink. She feels like her face is on fire “So, making any new friends?”

She tries to sound casual. She fails.

“Not really. I just spoke with one girl actually, did you see her? She was here a moment ago”.

“Nope. I just missed her, I guess”.

“Her name is Costia, she’s from Spain and she attends Computer Engineering too. She said we should study together so maybe we can figure out things better since we’re both foreign students”.

“Cool”.

It’s not cool at all, Clarke thinks, but she warmly smiles.

Lexa seems happy and grateful for having met someone who is from another country like her. So she can at least pretend she didn’t pictured _Costia’s_  death in no less than ten different ways.

“You have some paint...” Lexa is looking at her face and Clarke realizes that she has moved closer while she was lost in her thoughts. The brunette lifts one hand and sweeps a small spot of pink paint off Clarke’s cheek with her thumb “...here”.

Clarke holds her breath, her heartbeat increasing against her ribcage. At this rate she’ll end up developing a heart disease before she turns 20.

Her skin is burning where Lexa has touched her and she opens and closes her mouth once.

Lexa rubs her fingers together, cleaning them of the paint. For a second she looks like she doesn’t know what to do with her hand but she eventually puts it back in the pocket of her jeans.

“Thank you”. Clarke’s voice is throaty.

“You’re welcome”.

They look at each other, forest green mixing with ocean blue. The memory of their almost-shared kiss lingering between them. Neither of them wants to talk and break the deafening silence.

“Would you come to dinner with me tomorrow?”

“Uh?”

Clarke is so caught off guard by the question that she’s unable to answer properly. She mentally kicks herself when she realizes that she has said almost nothing.

“I mean, I still owe you a typical Italian dinner... no?”

“Yeah! I mean... Yes, I’d really like that.”

Lexa widely smiles, relieved that the tension between them is somehow broken.

Apparently Clarke doesn’t hate her for what has happened at the party and seems rather willing to spend some time with her.

She’s so happy she just wants to jump around like a child.

“Good. I’ll pick you up at 8 pm”.

“Lexa we literally live three feet apart, you don’t have to ‘pick me up’“.

“Well, I can still accompany you. Also you don’t know where we’ll eat”.

“True”.

“See you tomorrow then, bye Clarke”.

Clarke’s lips open in a goofy smile. She hasn’t even realized what has just happened, she just wants to hear her name coming again from those lips. And again. And _again_.

She’s on her tiptoes and, before Lexa has the chance to make up her mind, Clarke’s lips brush against her cheek. It’s just a light touch but Lexa has to fight the urge to turn her head and crash their lips together.

She can smell Clarke’s soap mixed with the rich, sour scent of acrylic paint. And it’s _addicting_.   

“Bye Lexa”.

 

 

“ **You what**?!”

Raven literally jumps out of her chair, almost throwing everything on the table in the air.

Clarke and the brunette are in the cafeteria, sitting at one small round table. Two full plates are in front of them along with two glasses and a bottle of water. A loud chatting surrounds them, several students and teachers having dinner like them.

“Raven.” Clarke sighs, nervously glaring around to check if someone is looking at them like they’re some sort of weirdos.

The brunette clears her voice and sits again properly, fixing her sweatshirt around her waist.

“I mean, what?”  

“You heard me. I’m having dinner with Lexa tomorrow night”.

“Is it a date?”.

“...No?”.

Raven looks at her with a raised eyebrow, not believing her friend even for a second.

She loudly snaps her tongue, arms crossed on her chest. “Don’t fuck with me. It’s a date!”.

Clarke lightly touches her lips with her fingertips for a brief moment. The sensation of Lexa’s warm, soft skin still impressed on them by fire. She would like to answer that yes, it’s a date.

“It is not! I made her promise she would cook me a dinner one day, remember? So she’s fulfilling the promise, nothing more”.

“This sounds like a date”.

“Oh my God Raven, stop!”.

Raven laughs in front of her flustered friend, she just can’t help herself. She loves mocking Clarke.

However, she’s so happy for her friend that she can’t stop smiling.

Clarke had told Raven that Lexa and her almost kissed at the party and the brunette had been feeling rather guilty. She knows that they stopped because of her.

Clarke had alternatively told her that it’s not her fault and that she hates her the whole week. Raven had tried to convince Clarke to just talk to Lexa, knowing that the week following the party has not been easy for her friend.

She knows that the fact that Lexa has ignored the blonde hurts Clarke.

On the other hand, Clarke has been just as stubborn in avoiding the Italian girl as well, so Lexa isn’t the only one to blame.

“C’mon Clarke, you have to hit on her. Claim your girl before this Costas chick can do anything”.

“It’s Costia”.

“Whatever”.

“They’re just classmates” Clarke looks at Raven and her friend is staring at her with sealed lips. The brunette frowns her eyebrows and snaps her tongue again.

“What’s our information about the enemy?”

Clarke sighs.  

“They’re both from Europe. She’s _Spanish_ ” Clarke spits out the word. “So they can study together and open a fucking little club for fucking sexy language speakers”.

Raven laughs so hard she almost choke on herself. Clarke looks at her like a victim looks at his executioner.

The brunette takes a sip of water with tears in her eyes and she tries to breathe normally again. “Oh my God, you’re so jealous!”.

“I am not.”.     

“Yes, Clarke, you fucking are!”.

Clarke heaves another sigh and doesn’t say anything for several moments.

Her gaze wanders around her, glaring at the others students while they eat, chatting and laughing.

She knows that Raven is right. She is jealous. And it doesn’t makes any sense because there’s literally nothing between Lexa and her.

But still.

“It's just... I don’t know what to do Raven. The only thing I’m sure about is that I’m totally crushing on her”.

“Tell her, the worst thing that could happen is that she doesn’t like you back. And that’s really unlikely. She tried to _kiss_ you, Clarke!”.

“I know. I’m just scared I’ll fuck everything up and lose her”.

“At least you would know and be able to go on with your life”.

Clarke looks at the plate in front of her and starts playing with the meat in it with her fork. Raven takes a bit of her sandwich and doesn’t say anything, letting Clarke take her time to think.

At the beginning she hadn’t been thinking that Clarke’s crush on Lexa has been so huge, but she can see now how much her friend is worried. She would like to help her but doesn’t really know how.

“You’re right. I have to tell her or I won’t be able to focus on anything else for weeks. Tomorrow I’ll try to talk to her about _this_ without dying of spontaneous combustion”.

Raven does her best to remain serious.

“So proud of you princess”.

Clarke eats a piece of her meat, eyes still focused on her plate like she’s thinking about a matter of life and death. She eventually raises her eyes and looks at Raven, who is drinking quietly. “Raven”.

“Mh?”

“I have nothing to wear.”

Everyone in the cafeteria looks at the pair when Clarke lets out a loud squeak, completely wet from the water Raven has just spat on her, the brunette still laughing out loud.

 

 

Slender fingers are tapping nervously on the tanned smooth skin of her knee.

Lexa is on her bed with her legs crossed and her laptop on top of them. She doesn’t even know for how long she has been sitting like this, with only the soft beating sound to accompany her thoughts.

She had really done it. She had invited Clarke to dinner and she doesn’t even know when exactly the thought had compiled in her head.

She had just blurted the words out without really thinking.

And then Clarke had accepted and Lexa had just burst into her room before her heart could explode.

She checks the time on the screen while she logs into Skype and looks for Anya’s contact.

Her sister is already awake and connected to the app.

She’s always online so Lexa can call her at any moment. She’s literally the best sister in the world.

She can’t await another second longer.

She starts the call and looks at the black screen while twisting her hands near her face.

“Che vuoi a quest’ora?” Anya greets her with a grunt.     _/What do you want at this hour?/_

She’s still laying in her bed. Her face is half hidden by the pillow and half covered by dark-blonde hair sprawled all over her. She’s watching her phone with only one half hooded eye and she looks like she has just woken up.

“Ho invitato Clarke a cena.” Lexa blurts out, unable to keep it for herself any longer.  / _I invited Clarke to dinner/_

Her sister lifts her head from her pillow so she can watch her phone with both bleary eyes.

She still looks sleepy but she is undoubtedly more vigilant than she was a few seconds earlier.

“Mi prendi per il culo.”    _/You’re bullshitting me/_

“No”.

Lexa’s voice is small and her cheekbones are already turning purple. She lowers her gaze for a second and when she watches the screen again Anya is shooting her a wide smile.

“Grande! E ha accettato?”     _/Great! And did she say yes?/_

“Hm-mh”.

“E non sei contenta?”   _/And aren’t you happy?/_

Lexa doesn’t answer straight away, she raises one hand and she chews on her fingernails for a lingering moment.

“Lo sono... Ma sono anche terrorizzata. Non voglio mandare tutto a puttane ”.     _/I am happy... But also terrified. I don’t want to screw everything up./_

Anya is sitting on the bed now and holds her phone in front of her face with one hand. She runs her fingers through her hair, trying to move a significant amount of it away from her face.

Lexa looks at her familiar face and can’t help but smile. Anya is so different from her she wonders how can they be sisters.

She has strong cheekbones with a wide bridge nose and two deep brown eyes. They’re so dark that is almost impossible to discern the pupil from the iris.

“Mi sembri una dodicenne alla prima cotta”.   _/You look like a twelve-year-old at her first crush/_

Lexa rolls her eyes and sighs “Non mi sei di aiuto, Anya”   _/You’re not helpful, Anya/_

Her sister just snorts.

“Ascolta, devi stare tranquilla. Ti ha quasi baciata quindi non le fai _esattamente_ schifo!”                  

_/Look, you have to relax. She almost kissed you so you don’t **precisely** make her sick/. _

“Non... avevamo bevuto. Non sono certa di cosa significasse per lei e mi ha evitato per tutta la settimana”     _/She didn’t... We had drank. I’m not sure what that meant for her and she avoided me for the whole week/._

Anya is looking at her with sealed lips now. Her eyes are wide and giving her a warning glare. “Anche tu l’hai evitata”.   _/You avoided her too/_.

“Anya, lo so, cazzo! Cosa vuoi che ti dica!? Mi piace davvero un sacco ma la conosco solo da tre settimane e non ho idea di cosa fare!”

_/Anya, I fucking know! What do you want me to say!? I really like her but I have known her for just three weeks and I have no idea what to do/_

Lexa knows that she shouldn’t be yelling at her sister. Anya’s the only one who’s always there for her. At any time, any day. But Lexa has so many thoughts in her mind that she has to get some of them out of her chest or she’ll explode.

Anya, however, doesn’t seem upset.  On the contrary she smiles. She knows her little sister too well.

Lexa is the quick-tempered one, she is the wise one. It has always been like this since they were both children.

“Lexa parlaci e basta. Se tutto va bene avrai una bellissima ragazza Americana, se tutto va male andrai avanti con la tua vita e ti passerà”.   _/Lexa just talk to her. If everything goes well you’ll have a beautiful American girlfriend, if everything goes bad you’ll go on with your life and you’ll get over it/._

Lexa chews on her lower lip while she looks at her sister, thinking about what Anya has just said. She knows that she’s right. Anya is always right, even if she would never openly admit it.

She heavily sighs. “Hai ragione, cercherò di parlargliene."   _/You’re right, I’ll talk try to talk to her about it/_

"Questo l'avevi già detto. Fallo peró"     _/You already said that. But do it/_

Deep green eyes rolls towards the roof. She decides it’s necessary, for her mental sanity, a change of subject.  

" _Comunque_ ho conosciuto un’altra ragazza, è spagnola, fa ingegneria anche lei.”    _/Anyway I met another girl, she’s spanish, she’s attending engineering too/_

“Aww, guardala, la Romeo dei poveri”     _/Aww, look at her, our little Romeo [see the notes]/_

“Fottiti. Non ti dirò più nulla.”       _/Screw you. I won’t tell you anything again/_

Anya just laughs throwing back her head. She perfectly knows that could never ever happen. Lexa snorts.

“Ora ho davvero bisogno di dormire, domani sarà una giornata pesante”.     _/I really need to sleep now, tomorrow will be a tough day/_

“Andrà tutto bene. Buonanotte sorellina, ti voglio bene”.    _/Everything will be fine. Goodnight little sis, I love you/_

"Buonanotte Anya, ti voglio bene anche io”.   _/Goodnight Anya, love you too/_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wild Costia appears. Uh oh. What will she do? Tell me your guessing.
> 
> (If you’re interested in how I imagine Costia check this beautiful drawing by Luis Royo <https://thewizardfolk.files.wordpress.com/2012/04/la-annunciacion2.jpg> )
> 
>  
> 
> -“Mandare a puttane” literally means To send someone/something to whores. This fic is really making me realize that Italian is such a pleasant language.
> 
>  
> 
> -Aww, guardala, la Romeo dei poveri
> 
> The expression ‘dei poveri’ is untranslatable. I’m trying to write the Italian dialogues just as close as two native speakers would talk giving you almost literal translations. But if it turns out to be too difficult to follow let me know so I’ll simplify the sentences.
> 
> Anyway it’s an idiomatic expression that means something that is special but only with very low standards. It literally means ‘among the poor’. So in this case Lexa is a Romeo just because is compared with people with so low standards that is too easy to be better than them. It’s obviously ironic and colloquial.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Are you ready for some Italian food?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for comments and kudos, as always. They make me really happy. 
> 
> Also as I said in the last chapter if you'd like to give me prompts let me know, I'll open a page on tumblr for you Italian!Lexa lovers.

### Chapter 5

 

The kitchen is a dreadful battleground.

She has been cooking for _hours_ and she still has to make the dessert. She has boiled the sauces for the pasta and the meat, she has kneaded and stretched _kilometres_ of pasta. She has cut, mixed, poured, tasted. At some point she has clumsily burned herself with the oven and she doesn’t even remember _where._ Pots and pans of various sizes are in the sink. Plates on almost every horizontal surface. Every possible genre of delicious smell is mixed in the air and Lexa capitulates to the boiling temperature of steam. She angrily opens every kitchen’s window in blunt gestures, with grunts as cover sound.

 _Ma perchè devo sempre avere delle idee così del cazzo. Potevo invitarla fuori invece di mettermi a cucinare come una vecchia **comare**. _ The thought has repeatedly presented itself making her sigh dramatically.

/ _Why do I always need to have such fucked up ideas. I could have invited her out instead of cooking like an old ‘ **godmother’** /. _

Lexa wipes a drop of sweat off her temple with the back of one hand. The movement leaves a stain of sauce on her cheek and she grunts again. She doesn’t even try to clean it.  Her patience is dangerously running short. 

She went to TonDC in the morning to buy the ingredients that she needed. Finding some butter that wasn’t actually _yellow_   was probably the hardest thing she has ever done in her life.

She dug the whole morning in enormous shelves completely stuffed with products and names foreign to her eyes. Due to the absence of her trusted brands, she has picked packages following her guts and inspiration, after meticulously reading the ingredients written on the various boxes. 

The epic story of Lexa, a touching journey through preservatives and orange cheeses.

She starts breaking eggs, separating the yolk from the white in two different ceramic pots.

She adds sugar and Mascarpone cheese to the yolks before mixing them in a soft, uniform cream.

Lexa then proceeds to whip the whites up.

_Ricorda bambina, gli albumi sono montati bene solo se rimangono attaccati alla ciotola quando la rovesci._

_/Remember child, the egg whites are well beaten only if they stick to the pan when you turn it upside down/_

She smiles remembering her grandma’s words. She tries to flip over the bowl and the frothy cloud of albumens stays wonderfully still. _Perfect_ .

She prepares the simple syrup - with coffee and cinnamon - for the biscuits in swift gestures.

Lastly she quickly finishes mixing the ingredients before assembling the cake with the dampened ladyfingers. A sprinkle of cocoa powder and the dessert goes straight into the fridge.

Lexa glares at the watch on her wrist. Only _one hour_ left before being officially late for the first time ever in her whole life,and honestly, she really doesn’t want to try this new experience tonight.

She messily puts the dirty pottery in the dishwasher and takes a bunch of minutes for setting the table and the rest of the kitchen. Only once satisfied she runs to her room.

30 fucking minutes left.

 

 

Lexa takes one last look at her reflection, trying to calm down her heart which is break-dancing against her ribs. She has picked a tight pair of black pants, a white thin sweater and a sand coloured blazer, her feet in a pair of black boots.

Everything is fine, she tells herself, it's not a date, so she shouldn't be so stressed about her look, about the food or _anything fucking else_.

Clarke and her are only friends.

Friends that almost kissed, didn't talk to each other for a week and who are going to have a dinner together.

But friends nonetheless.

She runs her fingers through her brown curls which are loose on her shoulders and she smoothes non-existent wrinkles on her pants. A deep breath. She meets her own nervous gaze in the mirror as she tries to shake her anxiety away, shrugging her head and her shoulders. She looks like the comical, bland imitation of a boxer getting ready for a match.

“Ok Lexa, ce la puoi fare, è solo un’ amica non c’è bisogno di comportarsi come una ragazzina”

_/Alright Lexa, you can do this, she’s just a friend there’s no need to act like a child/._

Pep talks are definitely not her talent, she decides while talking to the nervous girl reflected in the shining glass. The Lexa in front of her nods once before breathing deeply again. Time to get the show started.

She collects her belongings before stepping out the room. She closes the distance between hers and Clarke's room in a few 'too-fast-to-be-cool' steps and knocks twice on the door.

"It's Lexa".

Clarke opens the wooden barrier almost immediately, like she was waiting behind it the whole time. Lexa stares at her with parted lips, unable to say anything. Her eyes widening while they drink in the vision that stands in front of them.

Clarke is... Stunning. Wearing a simple blue dress, mid-thigh long. The top perfectly fits her chest, showing at the same time too much and not enough. The skirt is slightly loose fitting and dances against her legs whenever she moves. She's wearing slightly more make up than usual and she's greeting Lexa with a beautiful, yet bashful, smile.

Her red painted lips are luring Lexa like the sirens' call lured Ulysess. And the brunette feels like she really should be tied to the mast to keep her straight (no pun intended) mind and be capable of actually processing and voicing a logical thought.

"You... I like your dress".

Lexa exhales, her voice almost a groan. _Sono una cogliona._   / _I’m a fucking idiot/_

She wets her lower lip with a flicker of her tongue trying to regain her composure. She’s not so sure, now, that she can survive this. Clarke is looking at her with soft azure eyes and she feels her heart accelerating his beat, dancing in an irregular pattern dictated by unknown music.

She definitely can’t survive this.

The blonde steals casual glances towards Lexa's outfit once or twice. She smiles, grateful for the compliment.

"Oh thank you! I like your jacket"

"Uhm thanks... Shall we?"

"Sure"

Clarke briefly waves her hand towards Raven, who's laying on her bed, saying goodbye. Her friend winks at her with a playful smile and mimics "You go, girl" only with her lips, eliciting an amused smile on Clarke’s ones.

She then closes the door and follows Lexa through the hallway.

"Where are we going?"

"In the kitchen." It sounded more like a question than an actual answer.

"Oh, I thought... Never mind, it will be perfect"  
"No one ever uses it and I needed to have the fridge close..." Lexa clears her voice and quickly defends herself, looking at Clarke slightly under pressure. The blonde smiles at her and puts an hand onto Lexa's arm, stroking her briefly, to reassure her. The contact is pure electricity.

"Lexa it's okay. It's just that last night you were mysterious about where you wanted to take me out to and I imagined you had something crazy planned. This doesn't mean that I'm disappointed or anything... Really, I just want the food" she jokes before pulling back her hand.

Lexa rolls her eyes "Women always use me".

There's a bit of bitterness in her tone and Clarke bites her tongue trying not to ask anything. She would like to know what Lexa means but she doesn't want to ruin the atmosphere with her nosiness, especially if that means upsetting the other girl.

"Maybe you shouldn't say that you can cook"

"Maybe." A smirk. “How was your day?”

“Not bad, I mostly studied and sketched. Yours?”

“I spent the day looking at a monitor and my eyes kinda melted. Costia had an awesome idea for a project we decided to do together and we spent the afternoon working on it”.

A stab. Clarke can’t stop her mind from fervidly picture different scenarios, which turn worse and worse at every change of setting: Lexa and Costia at the desk, Costia’s hand that casually lands on Lexa’s thigh. Costia’s hand that moves toward Lexa’s cheek. A timid kiss. Then a heated one. And then they’re entangled on Lexa’s bed and the moan coming from Costia’s lips almost makes Clarke sick.

“Clarke?”

Reality hits her. She blinks her eyes and she looks at Lexa who is staring curiously at her, brows frowned “Are you alright?”

Clarke realizes she has stopped walking in the middle of the hallway. She glares around, her unfocused brain trying to build some sort of excuse.

“Yes, sorry. I thought I heard somebody calling my name”

“Oh.. I heard nothing”.

“Then it was probably just my imagination”.

Lexa seems rather confused in front of Clarke’s nervous grin, but she resolves offering Clarke her arm, gesturing her to resume walking. Clarke puts the images of Costia in Lexa’s bedroom back in some hidden, dark and far away side of her mind.

It’s something she can’t afford, she considers, letting her insecurities ruin this evening, letting something that so very unlikely happened crash her resolution. She’s not the young girl full of doubts and fears anymore. That part of her belongs to a different life, to a different show where Lexa didn’t appear. But now the cast has changed and Clarke is the leading actress in this premiere. She feels a warm wave of boldness when she looks in Lexa’s warm eyes and she takes her arm with a ‘thank you’.

When they reach the kitchen Lexa opens the door for Clarke who tenderly smiles and thanks her before stepping inside. Lexa's right behind her and she closes the door hoping that no one will decide that this is the right night to start cooking.

Clarke’s look wanders around, the blonde standing in the middle of the room.

The table is simply settled, nothing too fancy, but Clarke smiles again when she notices the effort Lexa has put in disposing candles all around the kitchen, on the table and the counters: They are in different shapes and matching white tonalities. A delicate indefinable essence fills the room, barely noticeable.

"Candles?"

"I may be a little obsessed with them... I saw this small adorable shop when I was in TonDC this morning and I just couldn't resist" Lexa tries her best to sound casual, she waves a hand towards an unspecific place that is apparently only in her mind. Clarke sneers at her.

"You're such a dork"

"I just like candles."

"So you say"

Lexa rolls her eyes. Clarke is taunting her a bit but the blonde can't stop grinning at how the kitchen is softly enlightened by the candles. It’s such a tender gesture that for a moment she hopes that Lexa doesn’t consider this a dinner between two friends.

She doesn’t notice Lexa stealing glances at her. The light plays with Clarke’s lineaments, glowing onto her eyes and drawing shadows with her straight nose and pink lips. She reminds Lexa of a classical painting, the title lost in her memories.

"I like them anyway, they create… atmosphere".

"Good, because if my mom finds out how much I paid them this will be my last meal. So at least make it worth"

Clarke chirps a laugh and Lexa smirks at her, lifting one side of her lips.

The italian girl then approaches the table and retrieves the chair, her head slightly bowed. A knowing smile on her lips " _Prego_ , miss Griffin".  [*]

 _That_ was a low blow.

"Thank you" The blonde sits in the chair, helped by Lexa who guides the seat behind her. Clarke is smiling again while she watches the girl circumnavigating the table and opening the warm oven. When Lexa turns around she's holding a pan with Lasagne in it.

"Mom's recipe. This comes from my region, I hope you'll like it" she puts a portion of pasta in Clarke's plate, then she does the same with her own.

"Lexa don't act like you don't know that it's gonna blow my mind off"

"No pressure, I guess"

"None, of course"

Clarke is literally ogling the plate. Several layers of pasta are filled with a thick meat sauce.

On top of the square of Lasagne a creamy topping. She's literally dying for tasting it using the tip of one finger but she doesn’t dare to move.

Lexa opens the bottle of red wine that was already on the table with experienced moves. Clarke doesn't even try to read the name on the label but she focuses on Lexa's lips, hoping that the girl will say it for her. She's not disappointed.

"The wine is from my region too, it's called Lambrusco"

Lexa's tongue soundly enrols the 'r' before slipping slightly on the 's', pronouncing it with a soft whistle. And Clarke just shivers, hoping that the other girl doesn't notice that she's basically squirming on her chair.

The brunette pours the sanguine liquid in their wine cups and then eventually sits. She takes her stem glass and hands it to Clarke in a toast offer. The blonde answers tapping Lexa's glass with her own.

"Cheers"

"Salute"

Lexa stares at her while she takes a sip of wine and Clarke suspects that the girl is just speaking in Italian to purposefully drive her crazy.

"It's delicate and… fresh. I love it"

"I’m glad you like it"

“Your parents really put some effort in shipping you food. I mean… wine? From the other side of the planet?”

“Well it’s not _exactly_ the other side of the planet” Lexa can’t help a smile when Clarke waves her hand in the air with a bothered look “But I like to have the best, so…”. Lexa lets linger the subtle compliment just shooting a telling glare from above her glass, taking another sip of the scented wine. Clarke mirrors her, drinking again and hiding behind the stem cup, swallowing back her trotting heart. “I see”. 

“You know I’ve always found odd that you don’t really have the habit to wish someone to enjoy what they’re eating. I mean in Italy it’s rather rude to start eating without saying anything to who is sitting with you”

“Really?”

“Really. When you eat with a lot of people there’s this funny chorus of ‘Buon appetito’ and ‘Altrettanto’ before anyone starts eating” Lexa says the Italian words mimicking someone who ceremoniously sends his regards and Clarke heartily laughs at the sight.

“God, you really take all this food and eating stuff so seriously” The blonde shakes her head.

“I’m starting to think you’re right but we don’t even notice it you know. While I was in Italy I never thought about the fact that even in two towns that are only few kilometres away from each other you can find totally different specialty foods” Lexa just opens her arms in surrender.

“That’s… insane and cool at the same time”

“Yep, but now, you can’t have your first plate of perfectly baked Lasagne” How, Clarke asks herself, just how can she make food sound so damn sexy “..cold so, Clarke, _Buon appetito_ ”.

It should be illegal, that voice. It should be considered an improper weapon.

“Mh.. you too?”

Clarke is not sure that it’s the right answer, but Lexa just smiles before starting eating.

The blonde leaves her glass on the table and takes some of the creamy sauce with the tip of her fork to taste it alone. It's soft and rich-flavoured, a nectar. It literally envelops her tongue for a second and Clarke lets slip a barely audible 'wow'.

Lexa's grinning with self-consciousness "It's called Besciamella" she casually informs Clarke.

Did Lexa just said "I want you to be my children's mother"? Because _that_ sounded _exactly_ like it. And the answer would totally be yes.

"... And milk".

Clarke stares at Lexa, coming back to reality and nods with a smile. She hasn't heard a single word of what the girl has just said but she acts nonchalantly.

She takes then the first forkful of her Lasagna and closes her eyes. The flavour erases any other thought for a second and she gets lost in the mesmerizing sensation on her taste buds.

Clarke realizes that she actually _moaned_ only when she opens her eyes and looks at Lexa again.

The girl is staring at her with wide eyes and parted lips, holding her breath. She painfully swallows the air locked in her throat. Her fork halfway between the plate and her mouth.

They lock eyes and Lexa's gaze is so deep and unbearably intense that Clarke ifeels on fire.

She bites her lower lips and Lexa enforces the grip on her fork, almost _bending_ the metal.

Heavy silence fills the room for what seems like an endless amount of time and Clarke begs the devil to cut a hole in the floor and drag her into fucking hell.

The brunette eventually clears her throat and fills her mouth with the Lasagna, unable to say anything.

"I... Uhm. I really like it"

"Yeah. I can see... and hear that." Lexa just groans..

They eat without saying a word for a while, both of them intensely looking at their own plate.

"I like your tattoo" Clarke hopes that a change of topic can ease the moment.

Thank god it works and Lexa finally tears her eyes away from the table.  
"Hm?"

"The one on your arm. I saw it when you where in your running top in the kitchen but I forgot to ask you about it. It's really beautiful".

"Oh, thank you. My older sister did it. She created the drawing and tattooed it. Anya has a tattoo shop in Milan. She's the artist in the family, I'm the engineer".

Clarke frowns a bit, she takes a sip of wine "Anya? It's not an Italian name like yours, is it?

"Yea, I told you my father likes uncommon names. In Italy there aren't many girls named Anya or Lexa." Lexa lets out a small sigh, remembering some uneasy moments in her childhood. Children can really mock someone for pretty much anything. But Anya has always been with her, fighting everything and everyone proudly, teaching her to never let anyone weaken her own confidence.

"I remember that, but they're beautiful names regardless"

"Thank you" A little smile at the corner of Lexa's lips.

"Anyway. The tattoo is amazing, Your sister is very talented, she must be at least well-known".

"Oh yeah, she's only 26 and already rather popular in Milan. She only opened the shop  about a year ago and a lot of people seem to like her style"

Lexa is smiling widely and Clarke can see how much affection is reflected in her eyes. She can't help but smile too as she eats another forkful of her pasta ,before speaking again.

"You seem so proud of her"

"I am. We're really close even if she has been living in Milan for 4 years. I couldn't live without her. My parents weren't really happy about her choice to became a tattoo artist in the beginning, but they supported her anyway and now they're really proud too".

"So she's the crazy one and you're the nerd?”

Lexa laughs out loud, closing her eyes like, Clarke noticed, she always does when she's lost in the gesture. She's deadly beautiful and genuine. Clarke stares at her totally intoxicated by the sight, hiding behind her glass, taking another taste of wine.

"Actually it's the opposite. I'm impulsive and she's the wise one. I mean, she's covered in ink, but hey, she always knows what has to be done. We are 'Due facce della stessa medaglia' " Lexa quotes the words with her fingers "I’m not sure what’s the English idiom, ‘two sides of the same coin’ maybe?".

This time Clarke joins Lexa's laughs to avoid staring at her like an idiot.

She's eating heavenly food, with a gorgeous woman who's fucking speaking at her in Italian.

Is this the perfect date or what?

Well beside that it’s _not_ a date.

"I get what you're saying. It's nice that you two are so close. I'm an only child and I've always wanted a big tough brother who could protect me".

"I see... Well you can always have a boyfriend like that".

Lexa tries to ask the question like she's not dying inside.

If Clarke answer that she _has_ a boyfriend or that there's someone in her life it will all be over. She wouldn't be allowed to dream anymore about kissing her, holding her or just skim over her creamy skin.

"Uhm... Maybe? I don't know, that would be different from a brother I guess. Also I'm not really interested in a boyfriend right now".

Lexa exhales the breath she hasn't realized she was holding. She eats a forkful of Lasagne to hide the smirk of pure satisfaction and maintain at least some dignity.

Inside her chest her stomach high fives her heart.

"And you? I-I mean, any boyfriends in homeland?"

Lexa almost spits what's in her mouth and she coughs twice, covering her mouth with an hand, before being able to swallow.

"A boyfriend?" She's quite amused by the question "I was pretty sure that it's obvious that I'm gay. Or, at least, that's what I have always been told" Silence fills the room. "Is... Is that a problem for you?"

"Not at all! I... Uhm, I always considered myself bisexual so no, it's really not a problem"

"Oh" _Si, cazzo,si_ "I see... Anyway, nope, no one's waiting for me at home"   _/Yes, fucking yes/_  
Lexa stands and recovers their now empty plates and the blonde thanks God that Lexa can't see her face right now. Because she has a shit eating grin on her lips.

“Ready for the second dish?” Lexa asks, looking at her from over her shoulder.

“Of course”

Lexa grins, looking at her for just a moment before turning again . Clarke's stomach flutters for a second. That was a killer smile.

The Italian girl places the dirty plates in the kitchen's sink and recovers another casserole from the warm oven. It's filled with tiny veal steaks, each one covered with what looks like a slice of ham and a leaf of sage.

Lexa serves the meat and Clarke thanks her. Lexa simply smiles.

Clarke smells her plate and her mouth is already watering, her eyes sparkle. How a dish so simple can look so deliciously tempting is beyond her understanding.

"Do your parents know about you?"

Clarke asks, resuming their conversation from where it stopped, while she starts cutting one of the steaks.

When she tastes it, Lexa hopes with all her heart that the girl won't let any sounds slip this time, or, she swears God, she will climb the table and literally _eat_ Clarke.

"Yeah they do, I never hide it and they just said that they will always love Anya and me no matter what. I have a very atypical family to be honest. Lots of people in Italy are religious and not very accepting but my parents are atheist. Also my dad puts family before everything, my mum is a bit eccentric and Anya… is just Anya.” Lexa smirks shaking her head briefly, she seems lost in her thoughts for a moment “Even my grandma knows about me. When I introduced my first girlfriend to her she said that she was 'too thin' and then forced her to eat a piece of cake so big that it could have fed a whole family".

Lexa groans at the embarrassing memory, but she has a sweet smile on her lips and Clarke can't help but laugh soundly.

"Oh my god, your gran must be hilarious! And you're lucky”

“Yea, I really am. Not everyone is like my family, there are so many bigots or people that simply don’t accept homosexuality, especially in Southern Italy. They’re more conservative and strictly religious. Even among young people there’s a lot of hate. You know, I never even met my exes’ parents because they didn’t accept us and it’s really… draining after a while”.

Lexa is looking seriously at Clarke, she eats a piece of meat, chewing slowly, as if she wants to fill her mouth, because she doesn’t know what to add.

“I understand, it’s not easy. My mom doesn't know that I also like girls. I have only been with one for like a month and I was afraid she would have found out. Sometimes she's a bit close-minded and I'm scared she won’t accept me if I tell her".  
"I’m sorry, but maybe she'll take it better than you expect, does your dad know?".  
Clarke doesn't answer right away, her fork is lingering in the plate and she plays a bit with the rest of the food. The memory is lost in her mind for most of the time but it's not a topic she loves to talk about.

"He's dead".

"Clarke… I’m so sorry" Lexa looks like she wants to cut her tongue with the knife she's holding and never speak again.  O _ttimo lavoro Lexa, continua cosi    /good job Lexa, keep it up/_

"I- I shouldn't have asked, I'm so, so sorry" She reaches for Clarke's hand which is resting on the table and she feels the girl trembling for a blink of an eye. She thinks that's because of the topic. What she doesn't know it's that Clarke is actually shaking because Lexa is touching her.

"Don't be, you couldn't have known. And it happened many years ago. I'll always love him, but the pain is less overwhelming now. Like a scar" Clarke gives her a weak smile and the brunette answers with a sympathetic, sweet look.

The blonde’s eyes then drift over their touching hands. Lexa’s palm is a bit calloused and dry but feels soft in a certain way. It’ a simple touch, the brunette is not even moving her fingers but Clarke feels a burn irradiating from where their skin makes contact.

It would only take a second for Clarke to turn her hand and interlace their fingers.

And then Lexa's hand is gone and she feels like she has lost her own too. She would like to stop her movement, to have her hand back in hers, but she doesn’t move.

"How's the meat?"

Clarke smiles, grateful that Lexa has changed the topic. "Amazing, and you know it"

"I guess I do"

"God, you're so cocky"

"Only when I know that I can be"

"So, like, always?"

Lexa rolls her eyes and mimics Clarke's 'always'. Clarke just laughs, any sadness forgotten. Her hand however is still burning while it grips the knife.

"What is it called?" The blonde asks pointing at the plate with her fork.

"Saltimbocca" Lexa says the word slowly to allow Clarke to understand every syllable.

But Clarke can only hear 'I'm an italian goddess'.

The blonde tries to repeat the word, but the sound of the double 'c' is just lost in her mouth.

Lexa laughs so hard that Clarke considers the option to just drop everything, run away to join the US army and disappear in some war zone in the Middle East. Dying with her remaining dignity for her country is not a terrible end.

"Don't make fun of me! God, I'll _never_ try to say anything in Italian again.".

"Why? I'm not laughing at you. You're just adorable".

Clarke blushes and doesn't answer. She lowers her gaze, unable to bear the sight of those deep emeralds. She fills her mouth with another bite of food so she can't say anything she will regret.

Like "marry me right now " or "can I just spend my life listening to you speaking in your fucking sexy language?".

 

 

 

They have eventually moved from the kitchen after the dessert. A thing that Lexa called 'Tiramisù', or whatever. Every spoonful of the cake was like the best orgasm Clarke has ever had, but she carefully avoided to tell Lexa.

They're sitting on one of the couches in the common room which is oddly empty. Everyone is apparently watching the local team's match in the campus's stadium. They remember teachers informing them about the match but they couldn't have cared less in that moment. They just feel absurdly lucky, but they know that the other students will eventually fill the room later.

On the table at their feet lies a box of 'something', a bottle of caramel-coloured wine and two little glasses that Lexa has brought with her.

Lexa has said that she just "had to try this even if she was too full" and Clarke has answered that Lexa was "on a good path to become what looks like an average Italian grandma" making the other girl snort.

Clarke is looking expectantly at her and Lexa tucks a knee over the couch’s seat, to face Clarke.

The brunette pours some wine in both glasses and opens the box. It’s filled with several biscuits. They're rather small and seem crunchy and they have almonds in them.  
"This is a Tuscan tradition. The biscuits are called Cantucci, they're really hard" She takes one of them out of the box and holds it between thumb and index "And you have to dip it in the wine, Vin Santo, before eating it so the biscuit will soften a bit" She shows Clarke before handing her the biscuit.

Without thinking the blonde leans towards Lexa and bites the biscuit directly from her hand, closing her eyes. A single drop of wine falls on her chin but she barely notices it.  
The cookie is hard and sweet and its flavour melts perfectly with the thick sour one of the wine.

When she opens her eyes Lexa is out of breath. Her hand still, lingering mid air.

She's staring at Clarke's mouth like a predator watches their prey. _Hungrily_.

Everything in the room seems frozen, like time has stopped. And Clarke has only a brief moment to regret her action.

And then, suddenly, Lexa's lips are on her chin, lightly sucking the wine from her skin.

Clarke sucks in a breath, completely paralyzed. She just can't remember how to breathe normally. Or how to move. Or do anything. Her heart skipping several beats.

Before she can even register that Lexa's mouth has left her skin, the girl is kissing her, crashing their lips together and capturing Clarke's lower lip between her own.

 _I can die._ Clarke instinctively reciprocates the kiss but she feels like she's watching the scene from outside her body. Her brain completely fried. _I can die **now**_.

Lexa feels her lips on fire. Clarke tastes like wine and almonds and something indefinably good and she just can't have enough. She feels a deafening beat in her ears and struggles to realize that it's actually her own heart.

The kiss is not a perfectly planned one in the least.

It’s messy, heated, both rough and sweet. They’re trying to follow the other's rhythm and to impose their own at the same time. They try to slow down and to fasten up, to graze the other one's lips with teeth, to suck the auburn skin in a sweet chaos of breaths and lips that is intoxicating.

Clarke takes Lexa's face in her hands, keeping the girl close to her. _Closer_.  Her fingertips brushing Lexa's soft curls on her temples and the other girl feels that Clarke is shaking.

Lexa grips the fabric covering her ribs, tugging slightly, the other hand on Clarke’s hip.

The biscuit landed somewhere some time earlier, forgotten.

They fall on the couch and Clarke sucks briefly on Lexa's lower lips while she follows her motion, gripping the collar of her blazer not to lose the contact.

Lexa exhales a small sigh before deepening the kiss, enveloping Clarke's waist with her hands afraid of letting her go. She can’t understand how someone can have such soft lips. It’s too much. It’s not enough. She can’t decide. She just knows that the feeling of Clarke's tender lips is erasing any rational thought, leaving behind just a black urge of want.

They kiss again. And again. Sighing softly when one of them needs air and leaves the other one’s lips for a matter of seconds.

When they finally part their eyes flutter open and they lock with each other. They both smile at the same moment.

Clarke brushes her lips against Lexa's and she feels the other girl's smile widening.

"I've wanted to kiss you since I heard your damn accent" she murmurs on Lexa's mouth and the brunette lightly laughs against her lips. She parts further, her head resting on the couch’s armrest, and looks at Clarke quite amused.

"You like Italian accent?"

"You have no idea."

"So you wanted to kiss me just because I'm Italian?"

Clarke slaps Lexa's shoulder, actually barely touching her "Fuck off". Lexa shoots her a lopsided grin that makes Clarke lightheaded for a moment. She then fixes the collar of Lexa’s jacket, smoothing the fabric with her fingertips. The pressed wool lightly tickling her skin "I really like you".

"I really like you too, Clarke".

They kiss again, just pressing their lips together because they both can't stop smiling.

"So, was this a date?".

"Would you like it to be?".

"Very much".

"Then yes, Clarke, it's a date" The blonde could actually spend the rest of her life listening to Lexa just saying her name and nothing else. And she’s starting to guess that the brunette _knows_ it.

She can't help but kiss her again.

"Does that means we are dating?". Clarke asks voice slightly muffled by Lexa’s lips.

"Would you like that?".

Blue eyes rolls towards the ceiling "Stop answering my questions with other questions” She laughs “Just say yes or no".

"Then no".

Clarke gazes intensely at her, fearing just for a second that Lexa was serious. But the brunette’s playful smile is so sweet that it just melts her doubts away and she doesn't even need to ask if Lexa means it

"You're an ass."

The brunette laughs again and Clarke nuzzles her nose against Lexa's chest, covered by the warm, soft, cotton of the sweater. She kisses Lexa’s sternum from above the fabric once, twice, feeling it vibrating under her lips.

"What did you say at the party? When we were about to, uhm... You know" Clarke rests her chin on Lexa's chest, looking at her with a light pink blush emerging onto her cheekbones.

Lexa is amused by her sudden shyness.

"We were about to kiss?"

"Well, yes".

Lexa gazes Clarke's eyes for a second and sucks in her own lower lips, as if she doesn't know how to answer. If Clarke weren't so curious about the mysterious Italian sentence, which haunted her for over a week, she would have devoured Lexa's mouth already.

"I said you're too beautiful to be real".

Clarke is completely wordless and her cheeks feel impossibly hot. She lifts her head again and kisses Lexa's chin. Just a peck of her lips.

"Say it again in italian, please" she whispers her plea before locking her eyes with Lexa's.

"Sei troppo bella per essere vera".

Clarke tenderly kisses her sighing against her lips. The realization that she can do it whenever she wants completely blows her mind.

Lexa is caressing her lower lip with her tongue and Clarke opens her mouth, granting her access and deepening the kiss. Her heart drumming furiously in her chest.

Everytime she tastes Lexa's tender lips she feels every brain cell in her head imploding.

And with all the regards to Tiram-something, she's sure that it's right now that she is having the best Italian dessert.

 

 

 

Every vertical surface of the dorm is a stop.

They kiss against the walls, unable to stay away from each other for more than a few steps. One time is Clarke that pins Lexa against the concrete to capture her lips, standing on her own tiptoes. The next moment is Lexa that tugs Clarke's hand to enlace her mouth against the creamy skin on the blonde's neck.

The wine they drank ignites their veins. Heating the excitation already running in their bodies to an almost unbearably temperature.

Now they're against the dark, smooth wood of the door of Clarke's room.

The blonde breathes against Lexa's lips, trying to part from her with a light push on her shoulders.

"We should really go to sleep".

"Absolutely".

Lexa's hips press against Clarke's, trapping her again against the door, and the blonde bites back a moan in the back of her throat. They kiss again, in a clash of teeth and aching lips.

"Or we won't never wake up to study".

"We won't".

Lexa's hands run onto the thin cloth of Clarke's skirt reaching its hem. She barely caresses the blonde's thighs with her fingertips.

Clarke squirms against the door, her head light from the absence of blood which is migrating in a total different part of her body. Hands grip Lexa's back. Holding her impossibly close.

"And we're making way too much noise at 3 am".

"Way too much".

Clarke takes Lexa's already bruised lower lip between her teeth. She soothes the reddened skin with her tongue eliciting a growl in the back of Lexa's throat.

Lexa's hands are on the bare back of Clarke tights now and her mouth leaves Clarke’s to delightfully suck on her pulse point when the door suddenly opens and they both loose their balance.

Lexa immediately grips the frame of the door with one hand and Clarke's back with the other saving them from falling.

"If _you two_ are done _fucking_ against my door I'd really like to _sleep_ "

Raven hisses at the couple, the doorknob still in her hand. She has half closed eyes, clouded by sleep, and her hair is a messy mane. She however manages to look intimidating.

Clarke and Lexa part in the blink of an eye, like they burned themselves. Both embarrassed and deeply sorry at the same time. Lexa is staring at the floor and she briefly clears her voice, a hand running through her hair.

Clarke watches her friend with gleaming puppy eyes, all the flames that were at her lower belly are now burning her face. Raven just knowingly winks at her before regaining her angry expression.

"Sorry Raven".

"Yea, Sorry".

The brunette just grunts before closing the door again leaving the couple alone.

They stare at each other with a laugh fighting to reach their lips. They both know that if they let it go and Raven hears them, they're pretty much already dead.

They hug with a last tender, chaste kiss, just pressing their lips together.

"Goodnight Lexa".

"Goodnight Clarke".

And with the sound of her name pronounced by Lexa echoing in her ears, Clarke disappears behind the door.

 

 

 

Lexa is in her room, laying against the hard surface of the door ad soon as it has closed behind her. She’s still lightheaded, her hands shaking a bit.

She takes a deep breath trying to clear her mind. She kissed Clarke. Clarke kissed her.

"Porco cazzo."            _/Holy shit/_

It still has the flavour of a dream on her sore lips. But she couldn’t have imagined something so heavenly. She has pictured kissing Clarke in so many different ways that she’s still having some trouble believing that it happened for real. But her imagination ccouldn't have a chance against the vivid fresh memory of Clarke’s lips, of Clarke’s delicate scent.

Lexa takes her phone from her pants' pocket and immediately writes to her sister what happened. The answer comes in a couple of seconds.

 _Era ora! Perdonami se non ti chiedo i dettagli ma non voglio sapere questo genere di cose su mia sorella_                        / _About time! Forgive me if I don't ask for details but I don't really want to know this kind of things about my sister_ /

 _Non te li avrei detti in ogni caso._        _/I wouldn't have told you anyway/_

_Ottimo. Sei contenta?            /Great. Are you happy?/_

_Cazzo se lo sono Anya!_         _/I fucking am, Anya!/_

She types in frenzy, her slender fingers tapping on wrong letters and correcting them in time with the swirling emotions in her chest. Her brain still hasn’t had the time to set italian as the chosen language.

_Bene, magari ora la smetterai di ossessionarmi con sta Claire e ogni tanto chiederai anche come sta la tua povera sorella          /Good._ _Maybe now you'll stop obsessing me with this Claire and you'll sometimes ask how's your poor sister doing too/_  


_Si chiama CLARKE                  /It's CLARKE/_

_VA BEH. Hai capito_                 _/WHATEVER, you got it/_

Lexa snorts looking at the phone in her hands. That's so... Anya.

She always pretends she doesn't care about anything. She always hides behind her deadly cold glare. Her emotions constantly under control, filtered by careful examination.

But Lexa perfectly knows that her sister is smiling at her own phone right now.

_Sei sempre la solita.              /You’re always the same/_

_Ovvio, senti tesoro sto lavorando, ci sentiamo quando ti svegli?_              _/Of course, look honey i’m working, can we talk when you wake up?/_

 _Sì, a domani, ti voglio bene._             _/ Yeah, see you tomorrow. Love you._ _/_

_Buonanotte mostriciattolo                 /Goodnight little monster/_

Lexa sighs reading the nickname she has heard countless times in her childhood.

Yep. Always the same Anya.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALL ABOARD THE CLEXA TRAIN.
> 
>    
> -"comare" it's not really a godmother, it's like an hold lady who spends her day cooking and chatting and talking about people. Or shouting at kids from the window...
> 
> * -"Prego" here is intended as “have a sit or make yourself comfortable”. We use Prego for a lot of things, actually.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hei everyone! Sorry if updates will take a bit longer, but I have a lot of exams until August!  
> Enjoy the chapter and interact with me on Tumblr: [italianlexa](http://italianlexa.tumblr.com/)

### Chapter 6

 

 

A fleck of dust dances in the silence of the room, broken only by rhythmic soft breaths. The speck abandons itself in the apparently motionless air, enlightened for just a moment by a ray of sunlight which filters through the not perfectly closed curtain. It crosses the room, ending it’s long journey on the pillow on the bed leaning against the opposite wall. It takes only a few minutes and the rising Sun aims his warm beam directly in Clarke’s eye.

The blonde mumbles something unintelligible in her sleep, not bothering to wake up. Her hand slides onto the fresh surface of the cushion, motioning toward her face. When it covers her eye, offering protection from the undesired light, Clarke lets a soft, content sigh slip through her lips.

Her brain refuses to abandon the fulfilling dream which is developing with so much effort.

_Troppo bella_ She said with that low voice. _Too beautiful._ _Troppo bella._ Clarke keeps hearing the words around her and everytime she turns her head towards the source she sees Lexa smiling at her before disappearing. Clarke would prefer her to stay, but everytime she tries to talk her mouth doesn’t cooperate.

It’s a blurred face actually. An undefined body with long, braided brown hair and two deep eyes. They’re so green and bright; their intensity just makes Clarke hum in her sleep. It’s merely a shadow, a figure, but Clarke knows that is Lexa.

She’s soundlessly running toward Lexa and this time the hazy outline doesn’t disappear. The blonde jumps without making any effort, sensing her body like it weights nothing. _Troppo bella._  

She wants to hear her singing that short, magnificent poem again. She wants to kiss that mouth while she murmurs those words just for her, biting her lips while they bend to form every syllable. _Troppo bella._

She’s in her arms now and she can only recognize a pair of pink lips in the vague shaped face. So kissable, so sweet, so tempting. She can feel Lexa’s hands burning onto her legs and she doesn’t remember if she has dressed or not, but it’s not important.

_Troppo bella._ They’re getting closer, her lips mere millimeters away from that delicious spring of magnetic speeches.

“Wake up sleepy!”

Clarke almost yells when she feels a body jump onto her bed, startling and waking her up at once. A pair of blurred sky-blue eyes flutter open, flashing around the room in quick glares before they find her mugger. Her heart pounding in her throat, the sound reverberating in her ears.

“ **What the fuck** Raven!” Her voice is hoarse and throaty, because of the uncivil waking up, the growing anger and the nature of the dream.

Damn that was a really good dream.

“Are you fucking insane, for fuck’s sake” She keeps groaning, trying to hide her face in the pillow to refuse every contact with the reality. Raven mutters a laugh and stretches out on the bed, like an annoying cat. She puts an arm around Clarke’s wrapped up torso, shaking her a bit to prevent her from going back to sleep. The blonde groans a complain trying to push her friend away with an hand. Her palm finds Raven’s forehead and the brunette snorts trying to shake it away.

“C’mon Clarke. I was tired last night, but now you have to fucking tell me everything”.

Everything. Flashes of the previous night hit her all at once. The candles. The dinner. Random Italian names. And then Lexa. Her lips, their kisses. In the chaotic daze of the abrupt awakening she struggles to separate reality from imagination. 

“Leave me alone Raven, I was dreaming” Clarke is whining her plea, but Raven, her head finally free again, climbs further onto her friend. She sits on Clarke’s hips eliciting a ‘ouff’ from the other girl.

“Talk and I’ll let you sleep after.”

“God, I fucking hate you”.

“Blondie we both know that you couldn’t live without me”.

“You’re _hurting_ me. Get off and I’ll tell you everything”.

Raven does as told with a satisfied sound and rests again on the blue sheets of Clarke’s bed. The blonde deeply inhales when she’s finally free from Raven’s heavy grip.

She sweeps the tiny tears formed at her eyes’ sides due to the sleep and clears her voice. She then rolls to one side to face Raven which is looking expectantly at her. Her head resting on her arm.

“So?” She asks with a smile and Clarke can’t stop the wide grin that cracks her lips open. Her eyes still heavy from sleep. She tries to blink it away and reach the consciousness that the previous night really happened.

“So… It was amazing. She’s amazing”.

Raven squirms with her smile intact “Details sweetheart”.

“She cooked all this awesome food and we ate so much. We talked a lot and then we went to the common room. She told me I had to taste some biscuits with some kind of wine” Raven’s brow frowns at the thought of eating biscuit with wine but Clarke is a swollen river of words “She said that is a tradition of somewhere, Tuscany” A wave of her hand “And she was so hot saying Italian names and all. Then she handed me this cookie and, Raven, I fucking _bit_ it from her hand. And then I don’t know what happened but then she was kissing my chin and then my mouth and..” Clarke stops when she notices Raven’s glare. She is looking at her like she’s saying something that doesn’t makes sense at all .

“What?” The blonde asks.

“She… Kissed your chin?”

“Yes I spilled some wine on it while biting that cookie and she _sucked_ it from my _skin_ ”. Clarke digs further her head in the pillow, her eyes spacing in the ceiling, focusing onto nothing. A sigh.

“Wow… that was… rash”.

“It was fucking hot Raven. My brain was completely fried” Clarke closes her eyes, rolling a bit to sink her face in the cushion. The sheets turn with her and Raven readjusts herself on the bed to avoid a ruinous fall. “And her lips, they’re so soft” A muffled sound of satisfaction “She is such a good kisser.” Clarke’s voice comes out muffled by the unrefined fabric covering her mouth.

“Clarke please contain yourself” Ravens groans her distaste “You have the wrong girl in bed right now”.

The blonde laughs before facing her friend again, looking at her only with one eye. Raven has a complicit smirk cracking her lips.

“So what now? Are you together?”

“We are dating”

“And that means?” Raven mimics Clarke’s position, laying onto her belly and with her head on the pillow, facing Clarke. The blonde is thoughtfully watching her, frowning for a brief moment.

“That means we are dating. She said she likes me Rey. Really likes me” The blonde can’t help a smile when the echo of Lexa’s words comes to her mind.

“Good. So that Costia is only a friend” There’s a hidden question in her statement and Clarke tears her eyes away, rolling onto her back. The sheets rolled with her again, and Raven snorts her disappointment when she has to shift once more .

“We didn’t talk about her, we were a little busy making out against every surface of the dorm” She playfully covers her insecurities with a layer of irony, earning a snort from Raven

“Gross” Her friend knows that this doesn’t mean that Clarke isn’t worried but she drops the argument, deciding to scoff her instead “Anyway I’m happy for you Sunshine, I guess you’ll have plenty of Italian… _delicatessen_ now”

A snort “She’s my… I mean we’re dating she’s not my chef”. Raven looks at her with a twisted smile, a single brow lifted.

“I wasn’t talking about food.”

She starts laughing at the yell in perfect Amazon style that escapes Clarke, while the blonde tries to climb over her and have her revenge. 

 

 

Blonde locks are spangled on the blue pillow cover, an arm covering her eyes. She sighs. Clarke decided sometime earlier that morning that she had to wake up. She left the warm hug of her bed and she headed to the bathroom. She took a cold shower, hoping it would push away the sleep that was still fogging her mind. And also some of the boiling grip firmly holding her stomach.

She washed her teeth and then proceeded to get dressed. A pair of leggings, a comfy hoodie.

And then she was fresh and ready to go to bed again. That's when she abandoned herself onto the mattress with a content mutter on her lips.

Raven has finally left her alone after a never ending amount of questions. All the answers have been commented with irony or disgusted sounds but Clarke doesn’t really care much.

She stretches her arms over her head, murmuring non human sounds of contentment due to the slackening. She wants to get lost again in the memories of the previous night. In the soft, warm embrace of Lexa’s lips on her own. In the burning sensation of her tongue in her mouth on her skin.

She shivers briefly while her hand motions toward her neck, her fingertips tracing the pattern drawn by Lexa’s mouth. Her teeth grazing Clarke’s skin, never letting it go, never stopping breathing warmly against it.

Two brief knocks on the door shake her from her trance. She opens her eyes and looks at the wooden closed door, straightening her back while she sits. She runs an hand through her hair, feeling the boiling sensation at the bottom of her abdomen turning into a flushing embarrassment.

She clears her voice “Yes?” She lifts from the bed, approaching the door after a quick glance towards the mirror. Her face is a bit flushed but she’s rather decent to be seen. And she doesn’t have much time to fix it anyway. 

“Hei… It’s me I.. uhm” Clarke opens the door, stopping that beautiful voice from its rambling.

Lexa is standing on the frame of the door, an hand massaging the back of her neck. She’s wearing a round neck sweatshirt, sleeves rolled up to her elbow, and sweatpants with ankle cuffs. It’s the first time Clarke sees her wearing such casual clothes. She admits to herself, with a pinch of envy, that Lexa manages to look hot whatever she wears.

“Goodmorning” Lexa is smiling now, that lopsided grin adorned by plump lips that makes Clarke’s mind go blank everytime.

“’morning”

The blonde raises her chin and kisses tenderly Lexa’s cheek. The brunette lets Clarke’s lips wander over her skin just for a moment before turning her head and meet them in a sloppy kiss.

Clarke swallows a sigh before it can reach her lips, she hugs Lexa’s waist, dragging her close. The brunette moves her hand from her neck, gripping lightly the dark wooden frame to not loose her balance, the other hand already lost in Clarke’s soft hair. They kiss slowly, both simply enjoying the fact that they can do it.

“I wanted to make you breakfast” Lexa’s voice is a bit hoarse and she stops, clearing it before continuing. Clarke can’t help a satisfied grin on her lips at the altered accent “But I realized that I didn’t know if you had already eaten, nor what you usually eat for breakfast so I thought it would be…”

The blonde interrupts her rambling again, tugging her close by her waist and kissing her a second time. It’s less innocent than before and Lexa nips her lower lip making Clarke suck in a breath. The brunette not losing the chance to deepen the kiss. She has forgotten what she wanted to say. The words slipping in her mind, in a mix of Italian and English that simply can’t be put straight in a concrete, substantial thought. But it doesn’t even matter because Clarke’s tongue is caressing her lips now and all her efforts are put in keeping herself alive under that touch.

They rest foreheads against each other when they part, a deep breath mixing between their mouths.

“That was nice, thanks”.

“I did nothing, Clarke”.

“The thought is enough. And, by the way, I haven’t eaten yet and I love waffles”

Lexa is smiling and moves back her head to gazes Clarke’s eye. They’re darkened by something she doesn’t recognize but the blonde is reciprocating her grin. “I’m afraid that I have never made waffles, but I can try”.

Clarke shakes briefly her head, snapping her tongue in a soft smack.

“Uh oh, we’re losing points over here”.

“In my defense, they are not a very Italian meal”.

“Mh, I’ll have to teach you then”.

Lexa’s hand has left the frame to reach Clarke’s cheek. She grazes softly the skin on the cheekbone with her thumb. The blonde feels the calloused fingerprints she already learned to recognize and leans a bit in the caress.

“You teaching me to cook? That’s comical”

“I’m not such a terrible cook you know”

“We’ll see, does your insurance cover burning down a whole dormitory?”

Clarke laughs “Shut up!” she exclaims while she tries to push away Lexa that’s laughing soundly. Her eyes half closed. The brunette enforces her grip on Clarke for a second, tugging her against her chest instead of letting the blonde go. Clarke muffles an annoyed grunt against the soft, thin cotton of her sweater.

“You’re an idiot”.

“Sometimes”

A snort reverberate against Lexa’s chest, making the girl grin again. Is this the same girl she was so afraid of kissing the night before? This perfect, adorable girl that is grumbling against her chest.  

“Mh… Anyway I’m starving, I could eat anything at this point”.

Lexa exhales a soft laugh loosening her hug, she kisses Clarke’s forehead before letting her go. The blonde catches her hand, enlacing their fingers. And with a last smile they head to the kitchen.

 

 

A shattered breath. Lexa looks at her trembling left arm, struggling to pull herself up at the chromed bar for the last repetition.

The campus’s gym is one of the biggest she has ever seen in her life. She honestly thought that the sport-will-pay-you-college myth was exaggerated in the numerous films and TV shows she has seen growing up. But she was obviously wrong.

Lots of student are reversed in the enormous space, using almost every machine and equipment of the building. It’s subdivided in different rooms, which are set up for different types of workouts or fitness exercises. Everything is new and modern, made in shining polished metal and refined plastic components. The plank’s seat Lexa has used not long before was still smelling like new, untouched leather. The whole gym looks like a photo from one of those advertising brochures with statuesque people smiling while using a treadmill.

She lets go the bar, her feet hitting the padded surface of the machine with a dull thud. She opens and closes her fingers twice to regain some of the lost sensibility. The tendons of her left hand are quite aching and she lifts one corner of her lips in a grimace from pain while she takes her workout gloves out. 

She recovers her towel from the bench next to the aligned machines of the room. She has left it there along with her sweatshirt and a bottle of water when she entered the gym earlier that morning. After her breakfast with Clarke she excused herself, telling the blonde she had to workout. She had extended an invitation to Clarke, who refused mumbling something about discovering “why she was in sweatpants” that Lexa simply didn't quite understand.

She can’t contain the dreamy smile that appears on her lips while she thinks about her morning. She never thought that things could turn so heavenly. She tends to be practical, focused, also a bit pessimist if she has to say. Several times she has lingered in guessing if Clarke’s possible refusal wouldn’t have been better.

Rejection is at least a safe dock. Painful, sure, but heartbreak is also certain and solid. She would have known how to deal with it: Brutal workouts and runs at the top of her lungs until physical death and then relentless study until mental self destruction. Everything orchestrated with melancholic music and gloomy mood. She has already done it, she perfectly knows how to endure it. A relationship is a jump in the void. It’s an undefined, untangible place between happiness, hope and panic.

Whereas since she has seen that pair of big cerulean eyes looking so tenderly at her, since she has felt the soft sweetness of Clarke’s lips she knows that she would jump again and again.

With the end of highschool’s years she has considered herself immune from the stifling grip of crushes, thinking they were a typical weakness segregated into the abyss of the teens. She has already had her part of juvenile sufferance and unfilled dreams. However Clarke is making her feel like a teenager again, with a pounding heart floating in her chest. Lexa has to admit that is such an addicting feeling that she simply doesn’t want to let it go.

Lexa wipes the sweat away from her face and her neck, before doing the same with the toned arms uncovered by the black tank top. She’s rather satisfied with her workout, she has spent over an hour doing various types of exercises and she’s starting to feel rather tired and sore.

She's on her way to the changing room where she recognizes Costia, wearing some colorful workout leggings and a tight, black crop top. She’s laying down on a yoga mat in one of the rooms surrounded by a thin wall made of glass, the usefulness of which is still unknown to Lexa.

The brunette waits for the girl to complete the series of sit-ups before approaching her while she’s still on the floor trying to recover her breath.

“Hi Costia”.

The girl shrinks her eyes for a moment until she focuses on Lexa against the light coming from the spotlight on the ceiling. She smiles sitting up and crossing her legs, still a bit breathless.

“Hey Lexa, productive morning?”

“Yeah, I’m satisfied”. Lexa crouches beside Costia who disentangles her legs and starts stretching.

“Good, you’re done?”

“Yes”.

Costia changes position, tugging one leg close to her backside and bending her torso toward the other thigh. “Me too. Already stretched?”

“I never stretch. I hate it… To be honest I’m as flexible as a tree”.

“That’s not good, you should always stretch after a workout”.

Costia stretches the other leg, keeping her eyes on Lexa and watching her with reprimand, lips slightly sealed.

“Thank you, mother”. 

Grey eyes roll towards the ceiling making Lexa laugh.

“C’mon sit down _chica de hierro_ , I’ll help you” Costia stands up and starts moving behind Lexa who follows the girl’s movement with her eyes while she sits down, extending her long legs onto the smooth linoleum.   _/Iron girl/_

“But I’m perfectly fine with my short tendons”.

“Less talking, more stretching”.

Lexa’s laugh dies on her lips when Costia starts pressing onto her shoulders, making her slowly bend over her knees. Lexa groans in pain while she puts all her efforts in not offering resistance and following the push instead.

“Che cazzo di male, Gesù santissimo…”     _/It fucking hurts, holy Jesus/_

Costia laughs understanding what her friend is saying even if she doesn’t exactly recognizes every word.

“Breathe Lexa”.

“Yea…” she grunts with some effort, her chest getting closer and closer to her thigh “So easy when you’re fucking dying.” She grips her own legs, trying to conceal the pain by pressing her nails into her pants and shutting her eyes closed.

“You’re such a grumbler”.

“Costia please, either you let me go or you kill me and put me out of my misery” Lexa pleades almost breathless, legs shaking under the painful grip of her own hands

The Spanish girl laughs again and slowly lets her go, patting on Lexa’s back before being back straight on her feet. Lexa groans straightening her back, an hand on one hurting side of her waist.

“Cristo”.       _/ Jesus/_

“C’mon it wasn’t so bad”

Lexa raises slowly onto her feet and she looks at her friend cringing.

“I felt like a victim of the killer in that horror movie. You know the one with the evil machines that crush people?” Costia just laughs and nods twice.

“Saw?”

“That one”.

“Well victim, sit again, I’m not done with you”.

Lexa watches the other girl with pleading eyes but Costia just shakes her head, pointing at the floor with her index. Lexa snorts, rolling her eyes before sitting again, muttering something that sounds like unmentionable blasphemies between her teeth.

 

 

“Oh drop the act.”

“I’m not acting, I’m sure I pulled some… undefined muscle over here” Lexa’s hand caresses her whole side and part of her back.

Costia’s eyes roll for the tenth time during their conversation. Lexa had been complaining about her back for the whole journey from the gym’s room to the changing room, from the changing room to the door and she’s still blabbering about it now that they’re on the walkway outside. They’re heading towards their respective dorms, both preferring to wash in their showers than in the locker room.

The sky is a bit clouded but it’s still rather warm outside. They’re still in their workout clothes, Lexa’s sweatshirt hanging from her hand over her shoulder. Costia is beside her in her crop top that shows more skin than it hides. Her long silken hair hold in a braid that wails along with the swing of her hips.

“I didn’t push _that hard._ Are you so delicate?” A grin, a flicker of her eyelashes. Lexa reads the mockery in her grey eyes and grunts.

“Delicate, me? I’m a rock” Lexa flexes her free arm, tensing the defined muscle of her bicep. She grins acting smug. Costia laughs again and stops her walk to taste Lexa’s strength with an hand, slightly squeezing her arm.

“A rock indeed”.

 

 

“What the actual fuck?”

Clarke stops abruptly in her path, Raven stumbling onto the arm the blonde extends to stop her.

“What the fuck is _that_?”

Raven follows Clarke’s deadly glare toward the park, locating what has made the blonde change her mood so fast. They just came out of the library and after hours spent on her mechanical book Raven’s brain is a bit fogged. It takes her some moments to focus and she swears she has heard Clarke actually growling.

“Oh, uhm. Someone flirting with your girlfriend?” Ok, wrong thing to say, Raven evaluates an instant too late , _wrong thing_.

“She’s not my… Why the fuck is she _touching_ her’”

“Who wouldn’t like to touch Lexa? I mean she could turn me gay with one word” She should really just shut up. Like really seal her lips with a lock and throw away the key.

Clarke doesn’t even listen to the whole sentence, she’s already midway, crossing the park in big steps while Raven is still talking. “Clarke! Cla…” The brunette sighs before running after the blonde who didn’t even give a hint of hearing her calls.

“Hey Lexa”

They’re still few meters apart from the two girls that are still laughing when Clarke declares her presence, closing the distance with long steps. She’s already wearing her most beautiful smile decorated with two piercing blue eyes cold as ice. The glare is all for Costia, who lets go of Lexa’s arm after a moment of astonishment. Raven is at Clarke’s side just a few seconds later.

“Hey” Lexa greets Clarke with a warm smile that makes the blonde forget for a second that she’s mad. She tries to ignore it. She closes the distance between her and the brunette and she kisses her softly on the lips.

It’s just a soft touch, nothing excessive that could abash Lexa in front of a friend but it’s more than enough to show who can kiss Lexa and who can not.

The kiss ends in a blink of an eye, but it’s welcomed by Lexa’s surprise. She looks speechlessly at Clarke just for a second before smiling, she seems more pleased than upset. Nonetheless she’s still rather confused about her menacing charge. Lexa could swear she has heard the Ride of the Valkyries reverberating during Clarke’s march and she was almost expecting a platoon of wild women riding horses to follow the blonde.

“Uhm.. Hi Raven”.

“Hey”

“Clarke, Raven this is Costia, she’s an aspirant engineer too. Costia this is” A pause, Lexa steals a glance toward the blonde. What are they, exactly? “This is Clarke and her friend Raven”.

The girls exchange brief handshakes and cold greetings. There’s a sort of embarrassment in the air which makes Lexa uncomfortable. She doesn’t even know why, considering the fact that she wasn’t doing anything wrong. Maybe she’s just imagining things. 

“What where you guys doing?” The blonde asks moving nonchalantly closer to Lexa’s side. The brunette puts her arm on Clarke’s back after a second, soothing some of her turmoil. But it’s not enough.

“We met in the gym and we were walking together towards the dorms”.

“Yea, Lexa was bragging about her muscles because I said that I couldn’t have hurt her while I was helping her stretch” Costia points out with a small laugh, Lexa grins. Clarke grinds her teeth together in a killer smile.

“Oh you _stretched_ together, great”.

“She told me she never stretches and I said she should absolutely do it so I helped her with some positions” Costia smile drops a bit when she starts noticing the cold emanating from Clarke

Wrong choice of words, Costia.

“How kind of you”.

Lexa doesn’t even know what to say. She actually doesn’t even understand if Clarke is angry and, above all, why.

It’s Costia that takes the lead after a way too long moment of embarrassing silence “Well, I should really go, you’re in good company anyway Lexa” She smiles at the brunette who nods with a smirk “See you tomorrow”.

“See you Costia”

“Bye” Clarke waves her hand and Raven mimics her. Costia answers moving hers after a moment of indecision, she gives an awkward smile. Then she starts walking.

Raven meets Clarke's eyes for a moment and takes the hint that it’s her moment to disappear. She excuses herself and literally runs away from the exploding bomb with golden hair. The brunette gazes at Raven while she disappears barely waiting for Lexa to reciprocate her goodbye. She shrugs before facing again Clarke.

“Hey” Lexa greets her again with a softer smile and a lower voice this time, and Clarke’s willpower loosens a bit. But she doesn’t let go, not yet.

There’s a moment of silence where Lexa gently grabs the blonde by her hip with her free hand and tries to kiss properly Clarke. But the movement is stopped by a small hand on her chest.

“Ok, you’re angry, but I don’t really know what I did”

“Nothing”

“So why can’t I kiss you?”

“Because… We need to talk”

Lexa looks at her suspiciously. A unwelcome anxiety is starting to creep into her stomach making it twist a bit. What is Clarke trying to say? That it's already over? Maybe she’s just here to say that last night was a mistake, that it can’t work or God knows what.

“Uhm, about what?”

Lexa tries to keep her voice steady. She can already picture, in her mind, Clarke’s pitiful look. _“I’m sorry but I made a mistake”_ She can already hear that, she can already imagine the type of conversation they’re going to have. Clarke’s false smile, Lexa’s falser one. The sympathetic hug. She’s getting ready to answer the I-don’t-want-a-relationship-right-now-can-we-stay-friends question. She has enough resolution and experience to answer exactly the opposite of what she’s thinking. Of course they can be friends, Of course she understands. Of course she knows that last night was the alcohol speaking.

Lexa is so lost in her mental speech that Clarke’s actual voice takes her by surprise.

“Are we dating?”

“I…” Ok, that’s not what she was expecting “Yes… yes I told you yesterday”

“And you want us to date other people too?”

“What?!” Lexa looks at her like she can’t understand how the matter came to her mind “No, of course not.” She drops her arm, letting go Clarke and straightening her back in an attempt to not look insecure. Her pride roaring “Are you asking me that because that’s what _you_ want?”

Clarke it’s on her tiptoes in a matter of seconds, hands around Lexa’s neck. She kisses the confused girl who is still standing stiff in front of her. Lexa answers to the kiss after a moment of disbelief. When they part there’s a thousands questions floating in the forest green of her eyes.

Lexa opens her mouth to voice her doubts but Clarke interrupts her, leaving her with parted lips and a question dying on her tongue.

“No I don’t. I just… I needed to know”

She kisses Lexa again, deepening the kiss when she feels the other girl less tense under her arms. The brunette hugs her waist again with her free arm, keeping her close and caressing her back from over her v-neck sweater.

“Is that the reason why you were so upset a minute ago?”

Clarke nips at her own lower lip for a second. She thinks about Costia, about her jealousy, about her fear to scare Lexa away with her possessiveness like she did with Finn. “Yes” It’s not totally a lie, but it’s not the truth.

Lexa smiles warmly, she kisses Clarke’s forehead, then the tip of her nose.

“Are you okay now?”

Clarke doesn’t answer and kisses her again. She wants to be okay. And as long as she’s in Lexa’s arms everything else is just unimportant.

 

 

 

The following week passes in a flash of tender kisses and cuddles in their beds. Stolen moments in the hallways between lessons. Evenings spent with Clarke’s friends –who Lexa was happily starting to consider her friends as well- in the common areas of the campus. October has entered the scene, bringing some cooler days over TonDC, making the hugging under the sheets such an enjoyable business.

They hadn’t talked much in all honesty. The rush of excitement for the whole new thing was still too overwhelming to let them act like adults. Everytime they started some sort of conversation it died abruptly on the lips of the other one.

“You should tell her”

Clarke stops chewing on the top of her pen, briefly lifting her gaze from the textbook she’s reading. She’s studying with Raven and Octavia, the three of them roosted on the beds they placed one next to the other. Textbooks on their crossed legs, sitting in a circle like they were some unlikely kind of secret cult. Like they used to do in Highschool.

“Sorry Raven, but I’m afraid I missed the whole part of the conversation that happened only in your head” She looks at Octavia in search of an explanation but the girl shrugs, shaking her head. The brunette readjust her position, uncrossing her numb legs and tucking them to one side.

“I mean about Finn… about your ‘problems’ ” Raven explains “You should tell Lexa. Seeing her with her friend drove you crazy last week. You should tell her what happened”.

Clarke doesn’t look at her friend. She lets her gaze wander through the window, focusing on a small bird that’s flying around a branch. It doesn’t know where to land and Clarke gets distracted for longer than she intended. When she brings her attention back on Raven the brunette is watching her intently, Octavia is just listening silently. Their books forgotten on the sheets.

“It’s too soon for this kind of conversation. And I don’t have _problems_ anymore” There’s bitterness in Clarke’s voice.

“I know, but she’s not Finn”

“Yeah, noted, thank you”

Raven snorts at the sarcastic answer “What I’m trying to say it’s that she will understand Clarke, she won’t just run away to someone else’s bed if you have some insecurities”

Clarke coldly glances at her for a second, Raven chews on her lower lip. Maybe she overextended.

“We were kids”

“We were in highschool Clarke, not that long ago. Also, are you defending him?” This time is Octavia who talks, breaking her safe choice of staying silent. She always loses her restraints when she hears Finn’s name. Clarke takes maybe a second too long to answer.

“No I’m just saying that it’s in the past. I don’t want it to interfere with my present, that is more than satisfying at the moment”

Octavia glares at her, and Raven snaps her tongue. Clarke snorts avoiding eye contact with both of her friends. She has not forgiven Finn’s cheating, but she still has some hesitancy in blaming only him for what happened between them. However she has debated with Raven and Octavia on this matter countless times, and she doesn’t really have the resolve to argue at the moment.

“Lexa is smart and a good person. She deserves to know about your problems princess” Raven reiterates her point, Octavia nods in agreement.

“Still it’s something I stepped over. I’m not so insecure anymore. I’m changed”

“Clarke you were about to kill Costia” Raven is half amused by her comment and Octavia lets slip a soft laugh.

Clarke widens her eyes, shaking her head in disbelief. She can’t say that’s not right “Look guys I don’t wanna talk about this now. When the time comes I’ll tell her”.

The others surrender, Raven raising up her hands and Octavia simply recovering her book. She lays onto her belly to start studying again.

Raven briefly glares at Clarke one last time but the blonde is lost in her reading again. Chewing on her pen a bit harder.

 

 

 

 

“Clarke” She doesn’t stop at the call, keeping grazing the sweet tanned skin of the neck under her lips. “Clarke I should really start stud-hm”.

Lexa has lost the count of how many times she has tried to stop Clarke’s ministrations without even being able to complete a sentence. Her hands are wandering on Clarke’s legs covered by a pair of pants that are really too fitting for her thighs and even more tight on her backside.

She’s deliciously trapped between the silken sheets of her bed and Clarke’s body who is straddling her hips. Her lips hurt after all the assaults she endured in the past hour, and, especially, after the ones she accomplished onto Clarke’s mouth.

Clarke runs her lips, her tongue, onto the marvelous gap between Lexa’s collarbones and the brunette sighs. She finally gives up her restraint and moves her hands upward, grazing Clarke’s ass. The blonde hums against her skin and Lexa feels her blood rush into her arteries, migrating to her lower abdomen. It takes all she has not to jerk her hips in search of contact, perfectly knowing that if she touches Clarke’s hip she wont be able to control herself anymore.

And her control is already on the edge since too long.

“Lexa?”

“Mh?” She answers with blurred mind, searching for Clarke’s lips.

“You have an incoming Skype call”

“Oh” She opens her eyes and glares at her pc while Clarke reluctantly lets her go, sliding onto the bed at her side “ _Oh_ ”.   

She can’t believe that is Anya. Really. With the best fucking timing in the world.

She clears her voice and runs an hand trough her hair, trying to disentangle the mess Clarke’s hands created. She stands up and moves to take the laptop.

“Do you want me to go..?” Clarke is sitting onto her bed holding her weight onto the mattress with an hand, her legs are tucked close to her body. She looks like some sort of dreamy mermaid and Lexa would like to have her like this, onto her bed, for the rest of her life.

“No, it’s my sister. I mean unless you want to go… I.. I’d like you to meet her. If you want of course”

Clarke smiles tenderly and is such a vision that for a moment Lexa considers betraying her sister, shutting down the laptop and just press Clarke onto her mattress. She clears her voice again, trying to put aside the images that her mind is filming. She nonchalantly tugs at the collar of her sweater, trying to ease some of the burning heat she feels.

“I’d really like that”.

“Great”

The brunette grabs the laptop and sits onto the bed again, her legs stretched out onto the sheets and her back resting on the pillows. She answers the call while Clarke finds a comfortable position against her. The blonde stays out of the webcam, letting Lexa have a moment with her sister.

“Madonna quanto ci metti a rispondere?”   _/God how much does it take you to answer?/_

The explosion of the foreign beautiful accent makes Clarke smile. Anya and Lexa have pretty much the same inflection and shade of voice.

“Ero, mh, impegnata con Clarke” Lexa sees Clarke raising an eyebrow when she hears her name. Surely the only word she understood. Lexa sees a smirk onto Anya’s lips and before her sister has the chance to say anything she speaks again “E’ qui con me in realtà… le ho chiesto se volesse conoscerti e ha detto di sì”    _/I was,uhm, busy with Clarke/  /She’s here with me actually… I asked her if she'd like to meet you and she said yes/_

She’s begging Anya, with a pleading look, not to say anything too embarrassing and her sister just makes a mocking face for a moment “E dov’è la nostra star?”  _/And where’s our star?/_

Lexa turns the laptop slightlyon her legs, gesturing to Clarke to move closer. The blonde leans against her arm with a smile. Then she watches the screen and smiles again.

“Hi Anya”

“Hey”

They look at each other for a second and the only sound Lexa can hear is the drumming beat of her heart in her ribcage.

The two briefly study each other through the monitor. Anya is wearing a t-shirt and Clarke understands Lexa’s words about the fact that her sister is “covered in ink”. The older girls’ arms are scattered by several tattoos of various dimensions and styles. Mostly black coloured and rarely one in bright shades of ink. She’s an attractive girl and Clarke recognises some of the lineaments she adores in Lexa’s features. The well defined jaw, the sharpness of her cheekbones, the pride in her intense gaze. And, of course, that breathtaking lopsided grin she tried so many times to well reproduce on her sketchbook.

Anya looks at her sister with a glance “Non che dubitassi del tuo buongusto, L, ma è proprio gnocca” Lexa opens her mouth to protest but her sister is already talking with Clarke, leaving her with parted lips.

“I speak English so you can talk freely” She winks briefly at Clarke who answer with an amused smile. She can’t help but add that to the list of resemblances, Anya seems to be a total flirt like Lexa.   _/Not that I doubted your good taste, L, but she’s really a hot chick/_

“Oh, geat!… I’m so happy to meet you. Lexa constantly talks about you”

“She does? That’s odd, with me she doesn’t stop a fucking second blabbering about you”

Lexa groans, rolling her eyes. She should have known that this would have happened. Anya would never lose such a succulent opportunity to embarrass her. She doesn’t even try to stop her sister, knowing that’s a losing battle.

Clarke is laughing again and watches alternatively Lexa and Anya before focusing again on the screen of the laptop.

“What did she tell you?”

“Only nice things, I swear”

“Thank goodness”

Lexa groans and both her sister and Clarke look at her “I don’t always talk about you two, you know?” The other two girls just laugh, not even bothering to answer her. They all know that’s not true.

“You two are so similar” Clarke points out, looking at Lexa with a sweet grin.

“That’s not true” Anya and Lexa answer in a choir with the exact same shade of indignation in their voice. They stop, looking at each other for a second before rolling their eyes with a snort. Clarke just laughs, shaking her head “This is awesome, you’re like the same person split in two”.

Lexa crosses her arms on her chest, just shaking her head and refusing to give another answer that will prove Clarke is right. Anya sighs, massaging the root of her nose for a moment, eyes closed. When she reopens them she tries to change the subject.

“So Clarke how’s my little sister doing? She never tells me anything fun”

“Anya..” Lexa weakly tries to stop that dangerous conversation with a warning glare. If Raven can be embarrassing and out of place with her pestering, she knows that her sister is simply and atomic bomb.

“She’s good. She studies a lot and is always so busy. She’s one of the best students in the college. You should be proud” Clarke looks at Lexa just for a moment, they both smile.

“Oh, of course I am. Good anyway because our smartass over there will have to be the big boss of the family company one day”

Clarke’s eyes widen out of surprise. They hadn’t talk much about their families, just few conversation, but the blonde can’t remember a moment when Lexa actually explained what her parents did for a living. Not that it’s important but she would never have guessed that Lexa’s family could have such a business.

“Anya.” 

Lexa is glaring pretty angrily at her sister and Anya understands she has said a bit too much. She wrinkles her nose briefly before looking at her phone which is out of the sight of the webcam, trying to find an excuse to disappear.

“Well I have an important call to make, sorry girls. Clarke, it has been a pleasure, we’ll have the chance to talk again I hope” A smile.

“It’s been a pleasure for me too Anya! And I hope that too” Clarke answer with a grin, before sitting out of sight with her legs crossed. She leaves some space to Lexa, her mind wondering a bit about the truth she has just acknowledged.

“Scusa L. Non pensavo di dire una stronzata. Ci sentiamo più tardi magari?” Anya looks worriedly at her sister, biting the corner of her lip. _/Sorry L. I didn’t think I was saying some shit. See you later, maybe?”_

“Fa niente... Ciao Anya”   _/It’s nothing… Bye Anya/_

“Ciao tesoro”.  _/Bye honey/_

When the calls ends Lexa closes her laptop and literally jumps on her feet. She puts the computer back onto her desk and she stays still biting her lower lip. Her back facing Clarke.

“Lexa… what’s wrong?”

Lexa turns on the ball of her feet to look at Clarke. Her hands grip the hem of the desk while she leans back, resting her hips against the surface. The blonde is gazing worriedly at her.

“You’re not angry?”

Clarke smiles and bends her head toward her left shoulder “For what?”

“Because I didn’t tell you about the company thing”

Clarke heaves a soft sigh. She stands from the bed, circumnavigating it to get close to Lexa. She hugs her neck kissing once her chin with a tender peck of her lips.

“We spent too much time making out to talk about our families.” Clarke tries to ease the tension, kissing softly her lips. But Lexa is still looking guiltily at her

“Lexa I don’t care what your family does.”

“But I know about your dad, and that your mom is a doctor”.

Clarke shrugs “It’s not a competition about who knows more about the other. Also we have been seeing each other for a week, I don’t have the presumption to know your whole life already”

She feels Lexa’s tension easing under her arms. Lexa lowers her shoulders giving up her defensive stance. Her hands go resting on Clarke’s hips dragging her closer.

“I want to tell you everything Clarke. It’s just… My last relationship was a farce. She used me because of who my family is and when I found out I was devastated. I’m not saying that you’re like that, I know you’re not. I’m just scared that you will see something that you don’t want.”

Clarke can’t help but smile tenderly. She has not had the chance to see Lexa like this yet. She looks so defenceless and so young. Her eyes are soft and glowing with a vulnerability she has never seen pooling in that breathtaking green.

“We all fought our battles Lexa. We all have scars. You’re not wasted, or ruined and I know you trust me. What’s between us is new. It’s refreshing and scary at the same time and it’s natural that there are some things that require more time to be told. It’s perfectly ok.” She pauses for a moment, flashes of her teen ages dance across her eyes in a swift succession of painful images. Her father’s death, the grief, her obsessive need of someone in her life, the betrayal. “We have time to tell each other everything”.

Lexa exhales a breath after a long moment. She looks at Clarke mesmerized by her words. She can’t believe that Clarke is so sweet and understanding and adult beyond her age.

She kisses her not knowing what to answer to such a perfect speech. She feels Clarke reciprocate with passion, nipping her lips before pushing her tongue in Lexa’s mouth. Lexa’s hands grip briefly the cotton of Clarke’s sweatshirt covering her hips.

“Mi fai uscire di testa.”

Clarke doesn’t ask her to translate, too turned on by the sweet melodic sound of those obscure words. Lexa’s low voice is addicting. It’s pure fiery lava poured onto her skin, into her veins. It’s a burning poison that ignites every cell in her body in its path towards Clarke’s abdomen. She can’t contain a throaty moan that crashes on Lexa’s lips. She feels Lexa’s hands gripping her hips more tightly before sliding onto her ass. Caressing, pressing her fingertips in that delectable curve, holding her tighter and tighter. “You drive me crazy” She translates in a glimmer of lucidity.

Clarke’s not sure she can survive this.

She’s not sure if she’s standing on her own legs or Lexa is holding her weight. Truth be told, she doesn’t feel any part of her body except the ones that are touching Lexa’s. Her lips are burning, melting against Lexa’s mouth. She doesn’t register the floor solid under her feet anymore and she doesn’t even care. Her world arising and dying onto those soft, demanding lips.

When they part they breathlessly look at each other, their noses barely touching. They stay still, silent, not daring to move and break the spell that’s surrounding them.

Clarke’s lips hurts, suffering a delicious pain that the blonde doesn’t want to let go. She breathes against Lexa’s lips before parting further from Lexa to focus better her shining emeralds.

“I hope you don’t tell this to your sister too.”

Lexa laughs shaking her head and she hugs Clarke against her vibrating chest. The blonde smiling against her neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Anya. I love writing her. Do you also want more Anya?  
> You'll have more Costia though.
> 
> I don't know Spanish so I don't know if what Costia says makes any sense.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of Costia's characterization and a shameful amount of fluff

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sweet readers, I want to thank you with all my heart, again and again. All your positive responses and feedbacks encourage me to keep writing and to try to improve my style. I hope you can notice how my style has changed since chapter one. I still make a lot of mistakes and my betas are two saints for helping me, but I try to explore more the language and to use a richer style. And this because of your kindness and support.  
> I warn you, this chapter is not beta-read, so you'll probably find mistakes (If so, please tell me!)  
> Enjoy the chapter, may the clexa be with you.

### Chapter 7

A choir of uncoordinated taps had been filling the room for the past two endless hours. She had always liked the sound of laptop keys. It’s familiar, relaxing. A strange fascination, maybe a legacy from her parents’ genetic heritage.  

With the soft tinkling noise as her soundtrack, the professor is still talking about programming languages that Lexa already knows. She lets her eyes wander around the room for the umpteenth time, looking at everybody and no one at the same time. Long ebony desks and seats are filled with different kinds of faces. Lexa just catches glimpses of accentuated features; an aquiline nose, a square jaw, a protruding brow.

She eventually meets Costia’s gaze, who’s sitting next to her, and she smiles briefly. The girl considers her just for a moment, looking down at her stretched lips, before bringing her attention back to her pc. Costia’s smile reflects in the dark monitor, while she types basic commands on the black spreadsheet of a programming application.

Lexa diverts her eyes, her elbow finding the cool surface of the desk in front of her. Her chin rests on her hand. She focuses on the teacher, but she too quickly indulges herself with thoughts of Clarke. She always lets her mind linger on her, maybe with too much compliance and definitely not enough holdout.

Her unique scent of citrus, fresh skin, and sour tinges of acrylic paint is so imprinted in her nostrils that she can smell it everywhere, just by closing her eyes. And she does it. She lets her brain bathe in the ghost of that scent, memories of azure soft eyes dancing around in her mind.   

The professor finally dismisses the class after unbearably dilated minutes. Lexa emerges from her pictured fantasy, summoned by the noise which dozens of students are making on their way to leave the class.  

“That was interesting”.

She stares up at Costia, who’s looking at her intently while she closes her laptop, her bright grey eyes glistening with irony. Lexa snaps her tongue, pivoting on her seat to face the girl.

“This lesson was endless. I already knew everything he talked about, I almost wanted to shoot myself”. Lexa grunts, mimicking the act with one hand, and Costia releases a short laugh.

“You’re always so dramatic… and rather modest”

A smirk “What can I say? We Italians live for the _pàthos_ ” She emphasizes the word, acting smugly. Costia looks at her in amusement, a single eyebrow raised.

“Greek?”

“I just know some famous words or quotes”.

“You never cease to amaze me”

Lexa shrugs, pretending not to know that she has some weapons in her hands in the matter of flirting “Everyone has surprises”.

They laugh, realizing after a moment that they’re the only ones left in the now empty room. Lexa checks her refined wristwatch before running her hand through her loose locks. “Busy for lunch?”

“Nope”.

“Do you want to eat with me? I was going to cook some pasta”.

“Are you not having lunch with Clarke?” Costia is glaring at her with inquisitive eyes. Lexa shakes her head once. She recovers her leather backpack from the floor before starting to fill it with her belongings, which had been scattered all over the desk.

“She has class, but you could have eaten with us anyway. I always cook enough to feed an army” She glances at her friend while she clasps the backpack’s buckles.

“I don’t want to be the third wheel” Costia seems more concerned than necessary and Lexa can’t help but laugh. She genuinely doesn’t understand why the girl is so worried about having lunch with them. In Italy it’s basically an unwritten rule to invite anyone to eat with you at any time of the day.

“Costia, it’s a lunch not a threesome” Lexa scoffs her with a sardonic tone. An instant blush creeps on Costia’s cheeks, unseen by the brunette who is fighting against one hard clasp that just won’t shut.

Costia’s lips stir in an embarrassed smile “Oh well, I’d love that then. I’ll finally taste your famous pasta”.

Lexa drops the unclasped buckle in a huff. She waves her hand with disdain, refusing to try any further. Her attention is back on Costia and she shoots her a crooked smile when she notices her fluster “Pasta is not so special, Costia. The secret is in the _sauce_ ”.

Costia is puzzled for a second. Maybe she’s seeing too much in Lexa’s attitude, but she always feels that uncomfortable yet tempting sensation boiling in her stomach, as if the brunette is flirting with her. And she can’t explain her feelings towards it. One side of her can’t help but flirt back, while the other one is scared and confused. Not only because she is aware that Lexa has a relationship with Clarke, but mostly because she has always considered herself straight. She has a boyfriend in Spain. She is in love with him.

Yet, she can’t help but gravitate around the disarming aura that blazes Lexa’s being.

The way she tilts her head when she’s focused on something. The way she tucks behind her ear the stray strand of hair on her temple. The way she fixes her glasses on her nose with a single, impossibly long finger. The way she clenches and unclenches her jaw, a hand kneading her neck, when she’s stressing on her notes.

Costia doesn’t even know at what point she had started to collect these everyday gestures in her mind. She just had.

And it’s terrifying.

Lexa stands, tossing the backpack over her shoulder. She unfastens the first horn toggle button of her sweater with slender fingers and lifts her tortoise glasses, placing them on her head. Costia is looking at her through her eyelashes from her sitting position. She sighs with amusement, rolling her silvery eyes.

“Let’s try this sauce, _entonces_ ”.  / _Then_ /

“I have some Pesto that will blow your mind” Lexa brings one hand to her mouth, kissing her clasped fingertips. The gesture’s so iconic and obviously theatrical that Costia bursts into laughter. Lexa openly grins and then winks comically.

Costia adds how Lexa sucks in her lower lip, after a glimmer of her tongue as her smile fades away to her compendium of endearing mannerisms.

“Can’t wait to taste it” She remarks, her eyes fluttering in quick glances toward Lexa’s mouth.

Lexa waits for Costia to be ready while she pads slowly towards the exit. When the Spanish girl is at her side, they make their way to the kitchen in Lexa’s dorm.

“You never told me why you chose to study at this College” Costia peeks at Lexa while she moves past the ebony door, which the other girl has opened for her. Costia lifts one corner of her lips in appreciation for her gesture. The girl often pays her these acts of gallantry and, again, she doesn’t know where to classify Lexa’s niceties.

“I didn’t exactly chose it. They offered me a scholarship thanks to an app. I sort of had the idea and my dad helped me to get in with the development team. To be honest, I learned more than helped, but whatever” Lexa shrugs, closing the heavy door behind her. She only says half the truth. She’s not completely at ease talking about it, but now that Clarke knows about her family and her planned future, she doesn’t really care about other peoples’ opinion.

They had shared much more about their lives in the past weeks. It’s somewhat strange to confront their childhood: Lexa’s own being set in a small ancient town and Clarke’s in a colourful city like Los Angeles. Lexa had wanted to kiss Clarke’s blue eyes when she widened them, listening to her stories. Her lips parted in awe while Lexa told her about summer nights spent riding bikes with friends, exploring streets emptied by the squashing mugginess. About some bakeries open past midnight, which gathered groups of chatting and inebriated teens in search of a sweet pastry. How fascinating it was to wander in the town centre, surrounded by modern houses on one side and Romanian monuments on the other. How it was so common to just sit in a bar in the main square, drinking a coffee, looking at tourists with their noses lifted in the air.  

It was an unknown, paradoxical world for Clarke. For her, everyday life was made of vast roads ceaselessly crossed by cars and pedestrians. Of coffees drunk from paper cups on her way to school. Of parties in fancy houses and buildings not older than a century.   

They eventually chatted about how they ended up in Polis; Clarke had chosen the college for its art program, while Lexa had groaned, confessing about how she won the scholarship. Clarke now never misses a chance to point out that Lexa is an adorable nerd, making sharp green eyes roll.

“Wow! That’s amazing, Lexa! What’s the app?”

Costia is looking at her with growing eyes. The irises appeared clouded by a storm colour, perfectly reflecting the turmoil that dances in Costia’s chest.

“You know the one where you can post videos and photos and they disappear after a day or two?” Lexa explains and she sees immediate recognition and disbelief in Costia’s features.

“Simul?” She inquires.   [*]

“That one”

“Lexa…” Costia doesn’t even know what to say. She stops in the middle of the hallway and gazes at the walls that surround her, like she’s looking for something solid to hold on to “Are you telling me you invented one of the most popular apps of the last year?”

Lexa slows her steps and doesn’t look at her friend for a long moment. It’s only when she considers that Costia won’t move without a plain explanation that she sighs. She leans her back against one of the walls and crosses her ankles, chewing on her lips for a matter of seconds.

“I… didn’t invented it... I just had this idea…” She ceases when she notices Costia narrowing her eyes, the girl shortening the space between them “Alright I made the concept of the app, but I didn’t actually develope it or anything, I just learned something about the programming part, really”.

Costia slightly shakes her head “And how the fuck did your dad manage to get you to work with Trigeda Tech?”

There’s a moment of heavy silence where Lexa looks at her feet. Her legs are crossed, one ankle resting on the other. One foot holds her weight, the other  dancing in the air in brief strokes, following a straight pattern. She looks at her friend when Costia moves even closer, a small, dusky hand finding Lexa’s forearm in a gentle grip.

“You want the truth?”

“Of course”

“My granddad founded it.”

Costia drops her hand and takes a step back. She peers over Lexa’s face, in search of some signs of derision, and the brunette just smacks her lips in a popping sound, her eyebrows raising and relaxing again in a blink.

Costia opens her mouth, then closes it. She opens it again, her eyes fluttering.  

“Oh my God. Lexa Woods. Woods… I never associated the name to… Oh my God”.

“Yea.” Lexa groans, slouching her shoulders in an unconscious attempt to gain a defensive stance.

“Wow… just wow. Does Clarke knows?”

“Of course”

“And what did she say?”

Lexa hides one hand in the pocket of her pants and cocks her head to the side. A warm cascade of brunette locks falls onto her shoulder “Nothing in particular. She was just curious about how my granddad started it and how it grew bigger. It’s way less known outside Europe. But what do you think she would have said?” There’s just a faint shade of inquisitive bitterness in her tone and her glare sharpens, cutting the air.

“Oh I didn’t mean to imply anything. I was just curious.” Costia raises her hands in a pacifier gesture and Lexa relaxes a bit, straightening her back again. She just wants to end the discussion.

“Alright… can we go now, please? I’m starving”

Costia glances at her one last time, looking at her whole figure in a flicker of eyelids. She eventually smiles “Of course”.

                 

 

A brush is dancing on the blank surface of the canvas, the silky tip leaving a thin grey line on the textured cotton. It draws a curve before ending its journey with a shade of paint.   
"You've got to show me loove"

Clarke sings the words in a low murmur, along with the song that's pumping in her earphones.

A swing of her hips in time with the rhythm, another line brushed swiftly on the canvas. She draws a last line and takes a moment to admire her work.

A pair of slightly parted lips and a barely shaped nose are painted in shades of grey. They're stylized, outlined in just few soft lines. Over them an eye with long lashes is looking at her from the fabric. The eyelid, not completely open, gives to the portrayed gaze the exact expression of passionate lust Clarke wanted it to show. Only the iris is coloured in different light green and jade tones, the deep black pupil surrounded by dark emerald shades and hues.

She hums her approval, closing her eyes for a brief moment to recreate in her mind the final image she’s trying to achieve.

She loves to hide in the welcoming space of the art workshop after her morning classes, when no one is around. She can paint while her mind wanders freely, spacing out between the lessons, the evenings with her friends, and moments…far less innocent. 

"Don’t you promise me the world…”

A warm ray of sun comes from the wide window beside her, shining onto the painting which is hanging on the easel. It enlightens the eye, making the green lines of paint shine like bright crystal. The whole drawing is brought alive in a flash. 

"Actions speak louder than woords".

After over a month from their first kiss, Clarke still can't believe that she's actually dating Lexa. Her mind keeps depicting in details their brief tender morning kisses, stolen in the few minutes before the beginning of class. It lingers on the slender, statuesque shape of Lexa’s body, zooming in and out on casual details. Her long, strong legs. Her broad shoulders. Her perfectly straight nose. And, especially, Clarke keeps rewinding and replaying their heated make out sessions in the evening. Laying on the bed, the thick fabrics of their jeans scratching between their intertwined legs, hands roaming everywhere except where they would really want to be. 

Clarke is still not used to the softness of Lexa's lips and the way they tenderly capture her own.

She's still not used to Lexa's casual gestures of affection: something she has baked or cooked for her to taste. A hug from behind when the brunette surprises her in the cafeteria. A wildflower collected for her.

And, above all, she's still not used to the Italian words and sentences that Lexa has begun saying more and more often, just to drive her crazy. She tenderly murmurs them on Clarke's skin with a warm breath. She sings her exotic mantras in Clarke's ears with that low, gravelly, voice while she holds the blonde in her arms.

They had reached a tacit agreement in those weeks; Clarke pretends not to know that Lexa does it on purpose, and Lexa pretends not to know that she has such a charming influence on Clarke.

Clarke is completely lost in her thoughts, a shiver running through her spine as she remembers _what_ Lexa had whispered in the crook of her neck last night. She mutters the last lyric of the song fading in her earphones, places the brush on the easel, and takes a step back. She almost jumps on the spot when she notices someone in her peripheral vision.

Lexa is leaning on the frame of the door, intensely staring at her with darkened eyes. She has an arm lifted, the elbow resting against the hard wood. Her hand is lost in her half braided hair. As always, Clarke can’t help herself from scanning her body, analyzing her clothes, her posture, her anything.

The brunette is wearing a beige pair of high waist pants that fit her long legs wonderfully. An open denim shirt with rolled up sleeves and a white tank top which is tucked in the hem of her pants. She looks like she's ready for a photo shoot for Vogue's front page.

It's rather unfair, Clarke thinks, that such a wonderful girl is hers. Not that she has anything against it. She just feels blessed by some sort of “Italian divinity of amazingly hot girls”.

"Hey" Clarke greets her while she unplugs the earphones and puts them in the back of her jeans.

"Hi" With a cat-like reflex, Lexa leaves her relaxed pose. She closes the distance between them in few, long steps and hooks her fingers into the pockets of Clakre’s jeans. She pulls until Clarke is flushed against her body.

The blonde hums in a whisper when she's completely pressed against the other girl and, sneaking her hands under Lexa's shirt, she grazes her back. Clarke closes her eyes and raises her chin, waiting for a kiss that never comes. Instead she feels Lexa's mouth kissing her marked jaw line in few lazy brushes of her lips.

"Hai idea di quanto sei insopportabilmente bella mentre dipingi?" 

Clarke exhales a content sigh. Her fingers pressing slightly harder on the brunette's ribs.

Lexa, apparently, has recently made it her life's mission to turn her into a shaking, useless, mass of gelatine every time they're together. God himself, Clarke swears, has purposefully created this woman to drive her insane. 

Lexa is her alluring sin, and Clarke has found herself to be a remarkably pliant sinner.

A kiss on her ear "Do you have any idea how unbearably beautiful you are when you're painting?" The brunette translates the sentence, while her lips run over Clarke's cheekbone. And Clarke wishes she could understand Italian and prevent Lexa from spoiling those beautiful sounds.

She definitely needs a grammar book. 

The blonde turns her head to kiss Lexa. She doesn't waste any time before dampening Lexa's lower lip with her tongue, deepening the kiss after a weak sound of agreement. 

They part when they're both breathless and look at each other, smiling. Lexa hugs Clarke's waist, keeping her close. They start slowly moving their hips together, back and forth, in a spontaneous small dance they don’t even realize they started.

"You're such a flirt".

"I'm just telling the truth".

"Mmh. You always know what to say to girls, don’t you?" Clarke runs her fingers along Lexa’s forearms and then traces her straight shoulders with her palms.

"Years of practice".

"Aaaand _that_ I really didn't want to know. Maybe I was wrong and you didn't practice well enough".

Lexa is laughing now and tries to kiss the blonde again, but Clarke playfully doesn't let her and instead tilts her head slightly away. The brunette resolves, kissing the tip of her nose.

"I'm joking Clarke, I just know what to say to girls because I _am_ a girl"

"I think it's because you're an Italian latin lover"

"We are deep in the stereotype, uh?"

"Lexa. You embody the Italian stereotype, you know that, right?" The blonde is looking intently at her while her fingers fix the collar of Lexa’s shirt. The gesture has become an unconscious habit.

"That's a lie! I don't have the terrible accent you guys think we have, I don't walk around yelling 'mamma mia', and I've never said that you shouldn't eat the cafeteria's pasta because it's disgusting. See? No stereotypes here"

Clarke bursts into laughter, gently pushing Lexa's shoulder. 

"You have a point” She kisses her cheek and feels Lexa’s skin stir in a smile “… that means you didn’t have a multitude of girls?" she vaguely asks, before nuzzling her nose in the brunette's neck. She peppers the soft skin with tender kisses, gaining a soft humming sound from the back of Lexa’s throat.

“Exactly”

Clarke grazes her skin with her teeth, expressing her perplexity with a mumbling sound.

Lexa sucks in a tiny breath “I’m serious, just two”.

Clarke glares at her with suspicion and Lexa searches her lips, kissing her tenderly before pushing her tongue to meet Clarke’s. The blonde hums her approval in the kiss, melting. She forgets what they were talking about, but she doesn’t care.

"What were you painting?" Lexa asks when they part, hoping that the distraction will make Clarke drop the subject. Not even realizing that the blonde doesn’t even remember where they are.

"Uhm... You don't recognize it?"

"I don’t...” Lexa examines the painting, a humorous expression on her face when realization hits her “Is it my eye?"

"Hm-mh"

"It's amazing Clarke. Much prettier than the real one"

Clarke bites her neck softly at the statement, making Lexa hiss under her breath. "It's exactly like the real one, because _I_ am an amazing painter and _you_ have amazing eyes".

"Such a modest girlfriend I have".

Clarke leaves a last quick kiss on Lexa's shoulder before looking at her with curious eyes "Are we girlfriends now?" 

Lexa’s smile drops. She averts her eyes, scanning the room, but she’s unable to avoid moving them back on Clarke’s multiple times. She seems mortified and embarrassed. A pink shade reddening the olive skin on her cheekbones.

"I didn't... I mean we have been dating for a month and… so I thought... but if you..." She doesn’t know how to translate the fuzzy chaos that chases itself in her brain. Clarke stops her rambling with a kiss, earning a muffled grunt of disappointment. 

"I'm just messing with you, Lexa. I don't want to share my precious Italian chef with anyone"

Lexa brings her eyes back on Clarke, who’s looking at her with amusement and just a hint of absolute adoration.

"I hate you."

"No you don't" 

Lexa rolls her eyes and Clarke laughs, kissing her again. She bites Lexa's lower lip when the girl tries to part from her and she lowers her hand along her back, till her fingertips taste the curve of the brunette's ass. Lexa hungrily answers Clarke's gesture, eating her lips and enlacing her own hands in blonde locks. She slightly bends over Clarke, who arches her back, following the motion. They lose the sense of time. Or maybe they just lose the sense of anything. 

"You have class this afternoon?" 

Clarke chews her lower lip in a delighted smile when she hears her favourite accent altered by a sweet, husky undertone. It's the hottest thing she has ever heard in her life, and knowing that it’s because of her is thrilling.

"Nope"

"We could study together, in the park.  It's rather warm outside and I'd like to spend the rest of the day with you"

"I'd love that"

"I know that we don't see each other as much as we’d like to and I'm sorry. We both don't have much spare time during the week and I'm always overwhelmed by deadlines and classes and fucking projects and I barely sleep at night"

Clarke interrupts her with a wave of her hand "Lexa, you don't have to excuse yourself. I know that you're doing a hard course and in a foreign language it can only be worse. We see each other every time we can and I'm happy with it. Ok?"

Lexa tenderly kisses Clarke's forehead, smiling in the process. She knows that the blonde is sincere and she sighs against her smooth warm skin. 

Clarke is like a painting, the definition ironically fitting. Her emotions and thoughts are always readable, brushed and outlined in bright colours in her eyes, her expression, her gestures. 

She's neat, pristine. Pure. An inestimable masterpiece sculpted by deft hands. And Lexa is determined to take care of her, and to revere her, as such a rarity deserves.

"Ok... do you want to change your clothes, I guess?"

"Yep, come with me?"

"Of course"

Clarke parts from the brunette after kissing her one last time. She puts her unfinished painting in a long metallic shelter along with other students’ works. She lingers in front of the many canvases for a moment. Her fingertips running on the dark lines of the painted lips she drafted earlier. 

When she turns to face Lexa again, the other girl is tenderly gazing at her. Clarke’s cheekbones blush in a fading hue of red.

The brunette smiles and raises her arm towards Clarke. The blonde snuggles under it, hugging Lexa's waist. They head out of the workshop and go into their dorm, walking in perfect coordination. 

The corridors and campus alleys are full of chatting students, some of them running to reach some class on time while others  cuddle in the park; laying on the grass under the stretched shadows of the trees. 

When they go inside Clarke's room they find Raven, sitting at her desk, totally absorbed by one of her textbooks. She barely notices them and greets the pair with a wave of her hand, not even tearing her eyes away from the page filled with formulas. The two girls greet her with just a "Hey".

Clarke collects some clothes from the wardrobe and slips in the bathroom to clean herself and get ready. Lexa's hips find the edge of the desk behind her and she leans against it with crossed legs. She silently browses her phone while she awaits Clarke, not wanting to disturb Raven. She knows well enough what the girl is trying to understand. Lexa herself had tried to disband the intricate tangle of integral calculus last afternoon.

Raven eventually sighs and lifts her eyes from the textbook, after she had read the whole page she was focused on.

"I hate this stuff.” She points at the book with an hyperbolic rotation of her wrist “I just want to fix things. You know, open an engine, put my hands on something and… get dirty" She pauses and glances at the bathroom’s door before bringing her attention back on Lexa, smirking "Like you." 

Before Lexa can say anything they hear Clarke's voice coming from the bathroom. 

"Raven!" 

"What?" Raven’s voice is candid.

"You know what! Stop saying shit to my girlfriend".

"Girlfriend uh? It's official then".

"Raven!"

Lexa just chuckles as she listens to the banter. These girls are hilarious, their synergy is just wonderful. They're so similar to Anya and her. The brunette can't help but being happy to know that, after all, Clarke _has_ a sister.

"I understood those paragraphs". Lexa points at the book in front of Raven with a nod of her head. Hands hidden in her pockets, she tries to bring the conversation back to safer topics "If you want any help". 

"Thank you! That would be nice. I got most of the arguments, but there's still something that is simply obscure to my understanding".

"It's hard, but you don't have to worry. You just need a method to study them in the right way. Also, in Italy I was in a very good high school and it lasts five years and not four. We probably covered more arguments" 

"So you're 19?" 

"Yep".

"Clarke always had a thing for older women".

"Raven!!" Clarke is almost barking from the other side of the door.  Raven and Lexa can hear the sound of objects being tossed around the bathroom. 

Raven chuckles and winks at Lexa, who is smirking, rather amused. She has, at least, something in common with Raven; they both love to mock their favourite blonde.

"So Lexa, Clarke said you always have your nose in a textbook"

"Yea... There’s a lot to study, well you know, you attend engineering too. But I have to rewrite my notes most of the times or else they won't make any sense, so I spend most of my afternoon doing that. And we have a lot of projects and shit like that".

"Aaaand another cockblocked victim of engineering hell"

Lexa is startled, literally strangling herself with air. She coughs and hides her face in her hand, pretending to just cover her mouth. The bathroom's door is suddenly opened and hits the wall with a slam. There will probably be a hole in the concrete, left by the knob. 

Raven is laughing so hard that she runs out of oxygen, a hand holding her own chest like it would help her to survive. Her sight blurred by tears while she gazes at Clarke. The blonde is standing in the frame of the door, a sweatshirt still halfway down her torso, which she tries to disentangle and wear properly. Killer eyes are set on her friend. 

"RAVEN."

 

  
The campus’ gardens extend far around the main buildings of the college. Polis' students are reversed on the green river made of grass. Some of them lay in the sunlight, enjoying the last warm days of that uncommonly mild beginning of November. Some are studying or playing with different sorts of balls. Their chatting softly surrounds the park, offering a bucolic picture of vibrant youths and trimmed trees.

A single leaf surrenders to the soft blow of the wind and abandons itself to an archaic dance, steered by the flow. It ends its journey on a open book and a slender hand swiftly sweeps it away in a single, vexed gesture.

"Arabo. Sta roba è in arabo"              /Arabic. This stuff is in Arabic/

Clarke tears her eyes away from her sketch and looks at Lexa. The brunette seems ready to set everything on fire with just an ardent glare. They're sitting under warm beams of sunlight, near some tall trees which offer them some protection from the wind and the other students' sight. The brunette had spent hours reading a huge book and doing exercises with long formulas, but she had been stuck on the same page for a while. Clarke didn’t even dare to ask what subject she’s studying, sure she would have reawakened the rampaging Chimera caged in Lexa’s chest. 

"Mh?"

"What?"

"Dunno baby, you talked in Italian"

Lexa’s features softens and she gives a small smile to Clarke. She mimics her 'baby' making the blonde roll her eyes. Lexa always finds the nickname sweet and amusing at the same time.

In Italy it’s rather odd, mostly used as a joke or by ‘very thug guys’ who end up sounding grinding and out of place. Lexa never really liked it before hearing it articulated by Clarke’s lovable voice.

"I said that these" she points at the formulas on the page "are written in Arabic" 

Clarke laughs briefly, chirping, before putting aside her notebook, scattered with drawings of the park, but mostly of Lexa’s Grecian profile. She moves towards her girlfriend, who detangles her legs to let Clarke straddle her lap.

The soft tissue of her skirt runs along Clarke thighs, letting the brunette see a delicious portion of creamy skin. Lexa swallows, thanking, in the silence of her mind, the warm weather. Her hands, holding her weight behind her back, grip the blanket they're sitting on a bit. She definitely needs something concrete under her palms.

"You're a genius, you'll figure it out eventually".

"I hope so".

Clarke hugs Lexa's neck loosely, resting her arms on the girl's shoulders. She rolls her hips a bit, adjusting her position and making Lexa exhale a half breath. She disguises it by clearing her voice, but it doesn’t go unnoticed by Clarke.

"What you think you're doing? I have to study" Her voice is playful, but a bit too throaty, and Clarke smiles naively.

"Just cuddling my poor engineer a bit. You deserve a rest, you always study so _hard_ "

The brunette sits with a thrust of her backand seizes Clarke's thighs, giving up every resistance. The vision too endearing to endure it any longer.

"Tu sarai la mia morte."

Clarke tilts her head and repeats the light rolling motion. She nips her own lip when she notices how Lexa clenches her jaw and

She feels her reaction on her legs. The brunette's fingertips are pressing a bit harder on her skin now, moving upward along her legs.

"In English babe".

"I said you'll be the death of me" The translation comes is a raspy, low voice and Clarke’s lips open in a contented smirk.

"Mh". 

Clarke captures Lexa’s mouth in a sweet kiss. She playfully caresses her lips with her tongue, without letting her deepen the kiss. Lexa grins and takes her revenge by nibbling lightly on the blonde's lower lip before parting. Clarke giggles and fixes Lexa’s round shaped glasses onto the bridge of her nose with her index finger.

“I like you with glasses”

“Lucky me. I guess I’ll have to wear them more and more often since staring at a pc monitor or small printed books all day isn’t doing my eyesight any good”

Clarke gives her a sympathetic gaze before kissing the tip of Lexa’s nose “Poor, poor Lexa”.

Lexa chuckles before kissing her briefly. Clarke’s hand moves toward the back of her neck, soothing the tensed muscles with soft caresses, making her melt in her arms.

"Wanna hang out with me, Raven, and the others tomorrow night? It's Saturday, you just can't study the whole day"

"Alright. We're are we going?"

"TonDC I guess. I heard Raven saying she would like to get wasted and dance. We could have dinner just the two of us and then join them. Do you think you can stand American food for once or do you think you'll lose your Italian citizenship?" 

Lexa smirks "I can survive, I guess. But you better not tell anyone, I have a reputation you know".

Clarke peppers light kisses along her jaw with a light laugh. Lexa hums before talking again "Also, for you I’d do anything".

"Would you?"

"Yep".

"How so?" Clarke asks playfully, but Lexa parts from her with a serious glare. Her gaze spaces between Clarke's eyes, enjoying every vibrant shade of blue in them. The sun lights the two irises up, turning them impossibly bright. 

She opens her mouth and closes it right after.

Clarke is smiling at her, holding Lexa's gaze. She brushes a rebel curl  behind Lexa's ear, uncovering one jade eye. Clarke sees something unbearably strong and obscure pooling in it. Something unknown which makes her gaze jump from one eye to the other. She can’t decide if it’s a dead calm or a storm. She can’t decide if she’s sweetly scared or terribly appeased.    

"Perché io ti -" /Because I -/

"Lexa!" 

Both girls turn towards the source of noise at once, startled and rather upset. Lexa is flushed and her trembling hands leave Clarke's thighs when she sees Costia approaching them. She hears Clarke snort lightly, rolling her eyes. The blonde doesn't let go of her neck and doesn't show any intention to leave her lap. Her legs tighten around Lexa’s thighs. 

"Hey, Costia" Lexa greets the other girl, who's watching them from her standing position. Costia’s head covers the sun, which is shining behind her, giving an endearing aura to the girl. Clarke tries her best to smile, grinding her teeth together, her eyes shooting dangerously at Costia. She spits out a ‘Hi’.  

"Sorry to interrupt" she doesn't sound sorry at all, Clarke thinks

"I was searching for you Lex. It's settled for tonight, right?" And she could have sent a text to ask.

"Of course"

"Great... I'll see you then. Bye Lex, Clarke."

"Yea, see you" Lexa says her goodbye with a movement of her hand.

Costia watches the blonde for a long moment, her eyes falling along Clarke's bare legs. The girl hugs Lexa closer, by her neck, with a killer smile. "Bye Costia" the name is venom on her lips. 

Costia gives her a half-smile that faintly grows when she moves her eyes on Lexa. She nods, more to herself than to actually communicate something, and she leaves with a last wave of her hand.

Clarke follows her with her eyes. Costia is barely out of earshot when the blonde turns to stare at Lexa, who has already put her hands back on Clarke's legs. Clarke takes her wrists, tearing them away, not letting the girl move her hands further under her skirt. Lexa doubtfully looks at her. 

" _Lex_? Really?"

"What?"

"Why does she call you that?" Her voice is harsher than intended. She can’t control it. She can’t hold back the caustic, biting pain that runs like a sharp razor on her confidence, slicing. She feels as though she is back in her high school years again and she hates herself for her lack of confidence.

"Clarke... Are you seriously jealous?"

"I…” She stops. Not sure how to answer. Trapped in her cage of insecurities “Just answer"

Lexa laughs while she tries to get her hands free. She can't stand having all that delicious skin so close to her without the possibility to touch it. Clarke enforces her grip and shoots her a warning glare, making the brunette sigh.

"Clarke she calls me that because we're friends. We are doing a project together and we must finish it before Tuesday, so we'll spend the night studying because we both have things to do tomorrow".

"What things?" Clarke blurts out. 

"I don't know what she has to do, but I would really like to spend some time with my girlfriend, if she is not angry with me because I dare to have friends" 

Lexa is smiling, watching Clarke with sweet, soft eyes. A tinge of mockery. She doesn’t look angry and Clarke feels the claws around her stomach relax their grip. She lets go of Lexa's hands and averts her eyes.

Lexa doesn't waste any time before resuming her caresses along her thighs, waiting in silence for Clarke to say something. Clarke chews on her lower lip for a moment, trying to find her words.

"I'm sorry... You're always so sweet and… I'm being a bitch". 

A breathy laughs "Nah... You're cute you know?"

"Stop. I should trust you more and I'm sorry.” Clarke closes her eyes for a moment. When she reopens them she’s diving into Lexa’s. “My ex boyfriend cheated on me. It was… complicated. I don’t really feel like talking about this now, but I shouldn't be so suspicious and… "

"Clarke, hey, it's ok." Lexa interrupts her rambling with a brief kiss "When you’re ready you’ll tell me. As you said, we have all the time we want.” She takes Clarke’s hand in hers, kissing just once on her palm “And if it makes you feel better, you can ask me whatever you want. I don't have anything to hide so why should this upset me? And by the way, Costia has a handsome boyfriend waiting for her back in Spain."

Clarke feels her eyes fill with water and she bats her eyelids, looking at their joined hands "Okay. I'm sorry" Her voice is small and her smile cracks open a pair of quivering lips.

Lexa kisses her hand again, on the back, while looking at her with plain devotion "Don't be, please. There's nothing to be sorry about" 

Clarke can't help a sigh, she shakes her head "You're too good, you know?"

A lopsided grin comes to Lexa’s lips "Yes, I do, but I believe in charity missions, so every year, I choose one blonde to bless with my presence"

Clarke lets out a throaty laugh and gives Lexa a long sloppy kiss. They brush their noses together when they change their angle, and they smile against each other’s lips. Clarke intertwines her fingers with Lexa’s, her other hand finding a hold on her shoulder.   

"And then you say something so stupid that I don't understand how you could invent an app."

"Yea, but you couldn't live without my jokes"

"Maybe"

Lexa snuggles into the crook of Clarke's neck, enlacing her lips against the soft skin and sucking tenderly. Her nose is lost in scented blonde locks. Clarke lets out a barely audible sigh of satisfaction and lightly runs her nails on Lexa's nape. Being with Lexa is always a constant shift between the most insufferable variety of emotions. One moment she is angry, devoured by jealousy;  the next she is a purring mess in her arms.

"What were you saying earlier?"

"When?" Lexa doesn't interrupt her ministrations, voice muffled against Clarke's neck. Her hot breath arouses a thrill along Clarke’s back.

"Before Costia's interruption". 

Lexa's hands are burning on her thighs and Clarke knows that if they’ll go any further she will probably faint. Lexa reaches a sweet spot right under her ear and Clarke squirms briefly, her legs straddling Lexa a bit tighter. She shuts her mouth close to trap the soft sound that’s trying to escape.

She feels her sigh against her skin.

"Nothing important".

  


  
"Absolutely no."

"Pleeease, please please please".

"Clarke stop. I won't eat in a place with 'Italian' written anywhere on it".

Clarke actually whines "Pleeease Lexa! I want to hear you complain about _everything_ and see the look on your face when you see the dishes".

A groan "So you want me to suffer?"

They're standing in front of a restaurant in TonDC. The colours of the Italian flag are painted all over the sign that reads "Alberto's - Italian restaurant and pizzeria" 

A wide window shows some of the tables inside, most of them occupied by clients, chatting and eating _something_ which made Lexa shudder at the sight.

"No. I want to laugh with you when you talk to them with that sexy language of yours and they don't understand".

"Yeah, as I said, you want me to suffer."

Clarke is smiling like a child. A child wearing a short silky black dress, which leaves nothing to the imagination. And which has made Lexa strangle a growl when she had opened her door earlier that evening.

But yea, totally a child.

The blonde is tugging at Lexa's hand, trying to move the girl from her spot. The brunette is proudly making a stand like a recalcitrant stallion and doesn’t even move a step. 

"Pleease babe, just do it this time, for me!"

"I'll probably die, so there is no chance that this will ever happen again" Lexa’s stern voice sounds almost serious.

Clarke snorts and tugs at Lexa's hand again. When the girl doesn't move for the thousandth time she softly complains before deciding to change her strategy. She closes the distance between them with slow steps. She leans against Lexa's body, smoothing the leather jacket covering her shoulders. Her chest presses against Lexa's and her cleavage is under the brunette's nose, who gulps with difficulty.

Clarke slowly kisses the other girl, taking her upper lip between her own and sucking it gently.

Lexa exhales a sigh against the blonde’s lips, melting against her body. Her brain sinks in a deep void of deliciously sinful thoughts.

"Va bene” She stops, her eyes flutter while she tries to focus again on the right language “I mean okay... But I hate you." She ends the sentence with a grunt. 

Clarke laughs and kisses Lexa one last time before taking her hand again. She has a winning smile on her lips and she swings her hips more than necessary while they go into the restaurant. If it's for Lexa's benefit or punishment is unknown.

A young waiter greets them with a smile of courtesy and a 'Buonasera' so badly pronounced that it makes Lexa grind her teeth.

"Good evening" Clarke says, crushing Lexa's hand a bit when the girl doesn't answer.

"Buonasera" Her eyes rolls.

The moment of plain panic in the waiter's eyes makes the brunette smirk.   _Beccati_.     /Got you/

The waiter retrieves his smile and with an elegant gesture asks the girls to follow him, before accompanying them to a table. Lexa looks around the room, thanking God that the restaurant is not so stereotyped like she had feared. At least there aren’t squared textures involved. 

It's rather elegant, with round tables of various dimensions. They're settled with burgundy tablecloths and refined plates and glasses. A small decoration sits in the middle of each table. The walls are in the same shades of red and the overall atmosphere is intimate and classy.

"You're so grumpy" Clarke chuckles while she takes her seat, retrieved by Lexa. She looks at the brunette who pouts, skirting around the table to hang her jacket on the chair. She’s left in her dark green short dress, which makes her eyes even brighter. The pair of heeled boots make her bare, toned legs impossibly long. It’s the first time Clarke has seen her in a dress and the temptation to just push Lexa back in her room and peel it off of her body had been hard to resist earlier that evening.

Lexa sits before glaring at her "I am not. But seriously, did you see his face when he got that I'm Italian? He was terrified"

"Maybe you scared him with the killer glare you have, miss grumpy"

"I didn't... I am not grumpy."

Clarke stifles a laugh at Lexa's frustrated expression. Their waiter returns with menus and the brunette deeply breathes before opening hers. Clarke looks at her from behind her lashes.

"Lexa we're at dinner, not at you capital execution"

"I don't see any difference when I know what I'm about to eat" she quotes from the page in her hands " _Linguini alla bolonese_ ".

Clarke can't help but laugh again. She wishes she had brought her sketchbook to eternalize Lexa’s expression on a sheet of paper. The girl keeps unconsciously shaking her head, scanning the menu with sharp glares. 

"Oh my God this is exactly why I wanted to eat in this place. Your face is priceless”

"I'm _dying_ here for your happiness” Lexa doesn’t even stop reading “at least don't... Che cazzo sarebbe la Carbonara vegetariana?" 

Clarke is breathless by now. She's trying so hard not to laugh too hard and draw everyone's attention that she's literally choking on air. She holds her menu straight in front of her face, pretending to read, but actually trying to hide from Lexa’s sight. She doesn't even know what Lexa had said, but it doesn't matter. Dragging the brunette into this place was the best thing she has ever done in her life.

"Seriously what the fuck is vegetarian Carbonara? How do they even make a _Carbonara_ without _meat_?"

"Dunno" Clarke manages to answer, from behind her refuge, with tears in her eyes "I'm a painter not a chef" the last words escapes a little cracked by her impending laugh.

She swears to God, if that girl says _Carbonara_ another time… 

"I'm sure even their chef is more a painter than an actual chef. _Dio_ … I’m not sure I can do this"  / _God_ /

“Don’t be so biased”

Lexa bites her tongue and breathes through flared nostrils, not wanting to give to Clarke more satisfaction. Her clenched jaw is showing her disdain enough. And Clarke is already silently laughing to death anyway.  
"I think I'll try the non vegetarian Carbonara" Clarke eventually says, regaining her normal breath as she closes her menu and watches Lexa. She had definitely chosen that plate to only madden Lexa further. The other girl snorts and drops her menu too. 

"I'll take whatever you take, I don't even want to keep reading that” A wave of her hand “ _Satanic Bible_ "

Clarke rolls her eyes while the waiter approaches their table again. Before the blonde has the chance to say anything Lexa is already talking with the guy.

"Saprebbe dirmi la specialità del giorno?"     _/Could you please tell me the daily special?/_

Silence. The waiter is embarrassed, to say at least, and opens and closes his mouth without a sound. Lexa's lips stretch in a sweet smile and Clarke watches her, totally fascinated. God, how can a person be so hot just by _talking_? The brunette glances at her once with a playful sparkle in her eyes and Clarke understands her silent message. The show is for her.

"No? Mmh allora lei che cosa mi consiglierebbe?"     _/No? Hm what would you suggest, then?/_

The waiter mutters something that sounds like "I don't understand" and Lexa gazes back at Clarke for less than a second. She gives her a knowing lopsided smirk and Clarke considers just climbing over the table and ravishing Lexa in front of the whole restaurant. She grips the seat of the chair, trying to regain a resemblance of dignity. It’s a flash and then Lexa is talking again.

"Sorry, I guessed you could speak Italian"

“I’m sorry”  

Lexa stops him with a raised hand and another smile. "Don't worry. The owner maybe? Or the chef?"

The young man shakes his head "I'm sorry miss, I don’t think anyone can speak fluently in Italian" He apologizes again, shifting his weight between his feet. He seems a bit lost, his eyes darting between the two girls and Lexa drops her act.

She's starting to pity the poor guy a bit too much. And Clarke had had her fun anyway.

"Oh it's not a problem, my bad. So Clarke what would you like?" Lexa is smiling at her girlfriend and flashes her a subtle wink. Clarke clears her voice, sure that it would have sounded husky otherwise. 

"I'd like the Carbonara pasta"

"Make it two"

The waiter agrees with a nod "Would you like some wine?"

Clarke looks at Lexa and the girl checks the wine list with a quick look “A Pinot, white?” She asks and the waiter nods while he transcribes their order. They thank him and he gives a smile out of courtesy before leaving in quick steps. The brunette follows him with her eyes before bringing her attention back on Clarke. The girl is still grinning, but Lexa notices the faintest shade of lust in her eyes. 

"Was that too much? I wanted you to have your fun, but maybe I overdid it".

"I don’t even know what you said” She laughs “But that was hilarious. I swear I wanted to laugh at his face so much"

Lexa laughs briefly "Good". She reaches for Clarke's hand, which is laying on the table, and takes it in her own “I just asked him things about the dishes”. She brings it to her mouth and kisses her creamy knuckles twice. Clarke’s skin is so soft that she’s always afraid she will scratch its perfection with her dry fingerprints "Did I already say that you're beautiful tonight?"

Clarke smiles watching Lexa with half hooded eyes. She bats her eyelids in a slow motion, making Lexa’s heart pound in her chest in time with the gesture.

"Not less than ten times" She answer playfully.

"And did I already say that you're amazing every day?"

"Once or twice... But you can keep repeating it" 

Clarke watches Lexa brush her cheek lightly against the back of her hand before kissing it again, just pressing her closed lips against her skin "I'll keep that in mind".

Clarke bats her eyes again, long eyelashes dancing along with the movement. Lexa always manages to make her feel smoking hot and heavenly pure at the same time. It's something so new and endearing, and _addicting_ that she just can't have enough of the other girl’s presence.

Lexa enriches her in every possible way. And all this after just a few weeks.

She feels her stomach flutter at the thought and tries to justify it with the evidence that she is hungry. But she feels a warm glow burning silently in her chest. And it’s not the red hot arousal she always feels when they’re kissing or touching. It’s not lust, or passion; or maybe it’s just all those things at once. She can’t give a definition, a name, to the tender, soft wave that overwhelmingly tries to reach her lips. On her tongue it tastes like soft words which want to be spoken, but she bites them back.

A popping sound breaks the spell cast over the table. They realize that the waiter is back with the bottle of wine and he’s waiting for some kind of indication. Lexa lets go of Clarke’s hand and gestures for her to taste the wine. The guy pours some of the amber liquid in Clarke’s wine glass with a soft bubbling sound. When he receives the okay from the blonde he fills both glasses and leaves the bottle on the table before disappearing.

Lexa’s fingers envelop the stem of her glass and she proposes a toast.

“To this beautiful country and its beautiful women”.

Clarke smiles but she doesn’t move yet “Women?”

Lexa smirks “Let me reword. To this average country and my beautiful girl”.

“Better” Clarke manages somehow to answer with a firm voice while she taps Lexa’s glass.

She feels her heart pounding against her ribs, her mind a bit too light.

Lexa said that she’s hers. She’s hers. And Clarke knows that there’s no truth beyond that. She’s hers, totally, completely, undeniably. This is the only thing she knows, the only thing she needs to know.

And she feels those words throbbing again in her chest and against the back of her tongue.

She swallows them with a sip of wine.    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right first of all Lexa is not flirting, don't kill me. She's just adorably oblivious. this happens to me a lot, people say that I'm flirting, especially with men, when I'm just being sarcastic and I'm just "WTF dude, chill"
> 
> Also, I laughed so hard writing the restaurant paragraph. Really. 
> 
> Again, I don't speak Spanish so Costia's Spanish is limited and probably wrong. Do you hate Costia a bit less now? That poor confused soul. 
> 
> * I totally made up the app basing it on snapchat or instagram or whatever. Simul means together in Latin.
> 
> p.s. A cannolo for the first one who identify the song. Don't google the lyrics! (Who's an 80/90's bitch like Clarke and me?)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sin.  
> Sin, sin, sin.  
> That's it.
> 
> And a bit of Clarke's past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just the umpteenth thank you to all of you guys.  
> I love you. And I hope you'll like this chapter <3

### Chapter 8

 

Lexa had always thought that she would never become like this.

What had started as a game to entertain Clarke has become a painful path through the most dreadful experience of her life. Her personal descent into Hell. A post apocalyptic survival.

She had always asserted that everybody is free to lead their life as they please. That everybody is equal, that everybody needs and deserves a chance.

But the truth has hit her plain and hard, bringing her back to a reality made out of misery; Americans shouldn’t have the freedom to cook pasta.

She had always thought that she would never become like this. A lamenting, grumbling brag about some wheat boiled in water. And yet here she is, still shivering from the thing she had been forced to eat. It was overcooked, soggy beyond understanding, and had melted in her mouth without even giving her the chance to _chew_.

 

_“It’s not bad, I like it” Clarke fills her mouth with another forkful of the sauce-coated pasta. Lexa just snorts, sticking her fork into the mash of spaghetti, non-identified meat, and smooth cream of **something.** Her face is a mixture of sufferance, self pity, and hate for life in general._

_“This is… I don’t even know what to say. I don’t even know why it’s **white** when it should be made with **eggs**.”_

_“It’s savoury”_

_“It’s a nightmare”._

 

“Lex?”

She raises her eyes from the swirling cocktail in her hand. She’s starting to feel a little numb and it’s probably because they have been drinking for a while now. She has lost the sense of time. That would also explain why she is making a plate of pasta a matter of life and death “Mh?”.

Clarke is smiling at her from her side. On the other side of the table Raven is sipping her green cocktail from a wide stemmed glass. Octavia is looking at her with an amused smile, curled up against the muscular arm of Lincoln. The noise around them is not loud enough to prevent a normal conversation, but the music in the downstairs dance floor must be deafening. Lexa can feel her heart pumping along with the rhythm of the music and she blinks her eyes twice when she realizes she was lost in her own mind.

They’re immersed in a pulsating darkness, faint red lights cut the gloom; dancing on faces and shimmering on glasses. Lexa hadn’t paid much attention to how the club was decorated. She had seen an ocean of bodies on the dance floor, moving in some embarrassing dancing attempts, or struggling to reach the bar counter with a raised hand. She looks around her now, in the upper room. Numerous squared tables and seats covered with purple plain leather are filled with young people, drinking and laughing.

“I called you three times” Clarke’s hand is on her back, caressing her gently from over the soft cotton of her dress.

“Yea sorry, I think the Gin is starting to affect me a bit” She smiles and the blonde kisses her cheek with a small chuckle.

Raven doesn’t lose her chance “Uh time for embarrassing questions”.

A laugh runs through the table, and Lexa shakes her head with her eyes closed. She’s relaxed. She’s having fun. She has Clarke at her side. She surely has plenty of nice memories already, but she can’t recollect a time in her life where she had felt so light hearted. Her relationship with Clarke is still in that blissful, terrifying stasis between familiarity and never fading worry, but she has resolved in enjoying every day without guessing about the future.   

“How about no” Clarke snaps glaring a warning shot to her friend who answers with a mischievous grin. Lexa brings her free hand to rest on Clarke’s thigh, squeezing lightly. The blonde unconsciously slides closer to her, lifting the hand on Lexa’s back to rest on her shoulder.

“So, when are you throwing another party Clarke? I’m looking forward to that cheese that Lexa has” The four girls look at Lincoln while he speaks, clearly trying to move the attention onto safer topics. Clarke looks at her savior with grateful, glistening eyes and a smile.

“Dunno, I was thinking we could spend Thanksgiving together since I’m not planning on going home just for a week”. It’s mostly because that would mean leaving Lexa alone with Costia at the campus, but she keeps that consideration for herself.

“That’s a fucking good idea Griff” Octavia agrees and Lincoln cheers the proposal with a gesture of his hand, holding his beer up in the air, before taking a gulp. Raven nods her approval and only Clarke notices the knowing glare her brunette friend shoots at her.

“Oh when is it?”

There’s a coordinated movement of heads around the table and everybody peers at Lexa, like she’s some sort of alien. She casually takes a sip from her glass, hiding behind it for a moment. She doesn’t quite know why they’re looking at her like this, but she’s not sure she wants to ask.

It’s Raven that talks, frowning a little “You don’t know when Thanksgiving is?”

Oh, that’s the problem.

Lexa huffs a laugh “Well I know you guys have some nationalism issues, but I want to remind you that it’s an American celebration” She emphasizes the last words and everyone seems to acknowledge that truth only in that moment.

“Oh right! It’s on the fourth Thursday of November” Clarke answers before brushing a peck of her lips on Lexa’s cheek. The brunette grins at her then leans in to press their lips briefly together.

“Just before finals. Great” Lexa is joking, but Clarke can read the anxious look in her eyes, darkened by the low light of the room. Clarke strokes her shoulder lightly in an attempt to reassure her. Lexa gazes at her for a matter of seconds, her eyes softening, before she finishes her drink with a long gulp. A warm dizziness cradles her mind, the anxiety a bit assuaged, flowing in the blurriness of inebriation.

“We’ll have all the time we need to be ready, they start after a week or so” It’s Raven who points that out and Octavia agrees “Yep, we can definitely celebrate Thanksgiving together. I have to ask to Bellamy if he agrees, but we could have dinner at our apartment”.

Clarke smiles, nodding. She doesn’t have the chance to thank her friend because Raven interrupts her.

“But we know you’re a nerd Lexa, Clarke never stops saying that you two don’t have time to do anything because you study too much” Raven is openly smirking and Octavia laughs briefly beside her. Clarke is outraged. She opens her mouth, unable to voice her indignation for several blinks of her eyes.

“Oh my God!” She eventually exhales, her voice an octave higher than usual. She turns to face Lexa “I’ve never said that!”

But Lexa is laughing, with a light shaking motion of her head, because she knows Raven well enough to be aware that the brunette has everything planned.

“Really Clarke?” Raven reiterates with a teasing tone, even as the blonde’s eyes are darting deadly glares at her “What were you saying this morning? That you would really like…”

“OKAY” Clarke doesn’t let her complete the sentence and she jumps to her feet. Raven ceases her malicious speech, while Octavia and Lincoln can’t help but burst into laughter.

“Let’s go dance, Lexa” Clarke literally drags the brunette by her hand, and Lexa follows her, still laughing. She shoots her friends an amused grin, widening her eyes and waving her head towards Clarke, mimicking a worried expression. Raven joins the laugh that still reverberates through the table.

When they approach the top of the stairs, Lexa slows her steps and lightly pulls Clarke, still holding her hand. The blonde doesn’t fight her and she finds herself in Lexa’s arms. Lexa kisses her cheek, feeling the reddened skin that she can’t see in the dim light under her lips.

“I have never said that, I swear” The blonde murmurs, relaxing, trapped between those toned arms curled around her waist. She feels Lexa’s brief chuckle against her cheek, her soft breath cool against Clarke’s scorching skin. Lexa parts from her enough to dive into warm blue eyes. She sinks into the deepness of that ocean, obscured by the absence of a clear light.

“I know”.

She closes her lips after a too long moment, as if she was about to add something, but decided to bite it back. She smiles and Clarke loses herself in the intoxicating way her lips bend. Her fogged mind tells her to kiss that obscene perfection, and she complies. It’s mellow at first, heated, then sloppy again. They can’t find a straight pattern to follow; they flutter through erratic movements dictated by growing passion.  

“Weren’t we going to dance?” Lexa croaks, her voice dropping into that alluring undertone that makes Clarke’s stomach quiver weakly.

“Yes. Let’s go” She answers, not daring to watch Lexa’s eyes, frightened by the intensity she could find in them. She grabs her hand, turning on her heels.

They descend the stairs and reach the dance floor’s centre, sliding through the heated ocean of bodies. They start to follow the rhythm with short movements of their hips, tentatively. The short, safe, distance between their bodies disappears in a few beats of repetitive music, while their eyes never break their connection. Clarke’s hands cradle Lexa’s face, and she draws her in for a searing kiss, making Lexa tilt slightly over her. Their hips brush against each other, trying to follow the flow of the music in an unconscious gesture. Lexa hugs Clarke impossibly close, her palms burning in the small of her back. She heavily exhales a hiss when Clarke captures her lower lip between her teeth, nipping harder than necessary.

Lexa feels a clenching, biting, disarming pain pierce her groin. It empties her lungs and she opens her eyes, gazing at Clarke’s. The blonde looks at her with parted, plump lips, and a half hooded glare that cuts through the scarcely enlightened room. Lexa bends to reach Clarke’s ear “Let’s go home”.

It’s a statement more than a question, commanded in a husky plea, but Clarke nods eagerly.

“Let’s go home.”    

 

   

She can’t breathe. Actually, she can’t make her brain cooperate with her body and coordinate more than two movements together; walking and kissing, biting and standing, touching and sighing.

She can’t push her mind beyond the feeling of Lexa’s lips on her own. Of Lexa’s hands on her hips, pinning her against the hard surface of Lexa’s room door. Cold wood presses against the burning, uncovered skin of her back, in a vexing discordance that enhances the turmoil rocking in her belly. Compiling a rational thought, which doesn’t end in a blurred mess of undefined and incoherent instructions, over the scratching, boiling heat clenching her lower abdomen, is nearly impossible.

She’s sure that she’s still on her feet, just because Lexa is holding her, since she doesn’t feel her legs anymore. She’s totally limbless. Her body existing only where it’s touched by Lexa’s calloused hands. Her nerve endings only shocked by Lexa’s burning, demanding mouth.

“Clarke.”

That voice.

That low, melodic, grumble is her World.

She registers Lexa fumbling with the lock, grunting against her lips out of frustration when she fails to open the door without parting from her lips. A metallic sound is in her ears and then they stumble into the room, the door shut by Lexa’s shaking hand. The keys, her purse, Lexa’s bag. She doesn’t even know where they’re being tossed, she only knows that she doesn’t want them on herself. She doesn’t want anything on herself. Beside Lexa.

“Dio, mi fai impazzire”  / _God, you drive me crazy_ /

That voice, again. So grave, almost a growl in Lexa’s throat. Needy, hoarse and unbearably alluring.

She could ask her anything with that voice. _Anything_.

Clarke grips Lexa’s shoulder harder, trying not to fall over her own trembling legs.

She doesn’t even know if Lexa’s talking in Italian on purpose or if her mental filter is too fogged to work properly. Neither of them care. Lexa’s hands keep her pressed against her body and Clarke finds herself moaning, the sound dying on hungry, full lips.

They make their way towards the bed, trying not to stumble over their own feet. The curse against the heels they’re wearing comes into both minds, in two different languages.

The edge of the mattress hits the hollow of Clarke’s knees and they fall with a muffled sound of surprise. Blonde hair brushes against the sheets while they try to find a position on the bed, pushing on the covers with heels and knees, frantically grabbing at the silken cloth of the blankets.

Lexa abandons Clarke’s lips and a frustrated sound leaves the blonde at a loss. The brunette fiddles with the little polished buckles around Clarke’s ankles, carelessly tossing each shoe away when she manages to open them. She tries to do the same with her own boots, but Clarke’s hands are in her hair and the blonde drags Lexa back on top of her, making her forget every purpose she had.

They can’t stop kissing, gripping, touching, _biting._

Clarke feels her mind go numb, overexcited by the burning turmoil that Lexa is causing in her. She wants more, she wants anything, everything.

Lexa is kissing her neck, her hands wandering to find the zipper of her dress as she breathes hot, unintelligible words against her skin, scalding her. She doesn’t even know what language she’s speaking and it doesn’t really matter. Clarke feels heavy, her brain twisting and fuzzy because of the alcohol and Lexa and everything that’s happening.

Lexa manages, with a sigh, to open Clarke’s dress and the blonde relaxes her arched back when the brunette starts sliding one strap over the blonde’s shoulder, kissing the newly discovered creamy skin, as she uncovers it. She lifts her eyes to look at Clarke and they widen in surprise, freezing her movements. “Clarke?” She starts to feel a laugh creeping on her lips when the girl doesn’t answer. “Are you seriously sleeping?”

Clarke mutters something that sounds like a “no”, but Lexa isn’t sure that she had actually spoken in a human language. She’s softly murmuring a content whisper, her face half buried in the pillow between her hands. Lexa laughs silently against Clarke’s shoulder, pressing her lips on the warm skin to prevent any sound from escaping. She leaves a last kiss against Clarke’s shoulder before straightening her back, sitting beside the blonde.

“Sei la cosa più tenera che abbia mai visto” Lexa whispers more to herself than to the sleeping girl. She hears Clarke mumbling while she sinks further into the cushion, the ghost of a smile stretching her lips. _/You’re the sweetest thing I have ever seen/_

Lexa slowly and carefully undresses the girl, just peeling the dress from her sinuous figure to let her sleep comfortably. She tries not to stare too much, covering her with the blankets as soon as she can.

Lexa then undresses herself, sighing in relief when she frees her feet from the boots. She recovers a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt before going in her bathroom, still laughing under her breath and shaking her head. She changes and gets ready for the night before going back to the bedroom.

Clarke is soundly asleep, curled on one side with her nose nuzzled in her hands. Lexa takes a moment to just admire the girl while she pads toward the bed. She could get used to the sight of Clarke sleeping in her bed, a bare shoulder peeking out the hem of the sheets. Her soft breath, blonde locks scattered on her pillow, except for a stray strand that covers her cheek. Lexa bends over the girl to brush it away with a light caress, eliciting another soft and breathy sound.

She then sneaks into the bed silently, without waking up the other girl. She slides closer to Clarke and rests one hand on the girl’s hips, finding a comfortable position on the side of the cushion that is still free. The blonde takes her hand with a unintelligible mumble and tugs Lexa closer, bringing the hand to her chest. The brunette smiles, kissing Clarke’s shoulder again, and readjusts on the bed to lay closer to Clarke’s back.

“Buonanotte” She whispers against creamy skin before resting her head on the pillow again and allowing sleep to take her away. / _Goodnight_ /

 

She wakes up with a ghosting pulse in her head and the first light of the morning sneaking through the curtains, piercing her eyes. It takes her slightly more than usual to focus her eyes. Her face is half sunk in the pillow, brown curls splayed on the soft cloth. Her hand is extended to her side, the feeling of warm sheets against her palm. Her fingers scratch the sheets, trying to hold on something that is clearly missing.

Lexa murmurs something, dissatisfied, while she opens her eyes. She scans the room, bathed in the dim light, in search of Clarke. Her sight, still blurred by sleep, doesn’t find any proof of the blonde’s presence. She is sure they fell asleep together.  She had just drunk a bit, leaving her mind rather blurred, but not enough to make a lucid dream so realistic.

Her face drops when she realizes that Clarke is simply gone. The blonde had evidently woken up and left without saying a word.

Lexa rolls onto her back and the sheets envelop her legs, following the motion. She wonders if she had done something wrong the night before, but she can’t think of anything that could have pushed Clarke to leave like that. Maybe she overstepped some sort of boundary, making her feel uncomfortable.

Lexa covers her eyes with an arm, trying to recreate the previous night in her mind, in search of any evidence of her guilt. Clarke seemed more than… consenting. If not as eager as Lexa. Could it have been shame that forced her to sneak out of Lexa’s room? Maybe she was abashed because she fell asleep, but it sounds like a forced excuse even to Lexa’s ears.

A noise from the bathroom makes her come back to reality and, turning her head towards the door, she catches sight of Clarke’s black dress hanging on her chair. She feels a sort of heaviness leave her chest and she smiles while she sits, the sheets falling from over her torso. She runs a hand through her hair, trying to disentangle some of the vaporous mess the pillow braided.

The bathroom’s door silently opens, revealing Clarke stepping into the bedroom after a moment. She’s scratching one eye with a knuckle and she looks rather sleepy. But what captures Lexa’s attention is that Clarke is spontaneously wearing one of her white, comfy sweatshirts.

It’s oversized over Clarke’s smaller shoulders and it hugs her hips and her upper thighs, fuller and rounder than Lexa’s, deliciously well. Lexa grips the covers under her hands a bit harder, her heart sobbing against her ribcage for not having that body under her palms.

“Oh… did I wake you?” Clarke stopped when she noticed Lexa sitting on the mattress. Her voice is raspy, her hand still hanging in mid-air, centimeters away from her face. She resolves to run it through her blonde locks, moving them to one side. Clarke smiles warmly and she’s so magnificent in her simplicity that Lexa hasn’t a single breath left in her lungs. She manages to groan an answer.

“No… I just thought you left”

Clarke tilts her head to one side, frowning briefly, her azure eyes so enlightened by the warm sunbeams that they remind Lexa of burning ice. A paradox than can exist only in the perfection of Clarke’s figure.

“Why would I have left?”

“I don’t know, maybe I did something wrong”

A husky laugh leaves Clarke’s lips “Lexa… I fell asleep with the _worst_ _timing_ _ever_ and you tucked me in bed. Exactly when did you do something that wasn’t absolutely the perfect chivalrous thing to do?” Clarke blushes at the memory of the night before, embarrassed, with the feeling of how turned on she was still impressed in her mind.

Lexa doesn’t answer and there’s a moment of stillness as she simply stares at the blonde, sucking the small wrinkle carved on her lower lip between her teeth. The sheets swirls in the air while she stands.

It takes only a second and Clarke is held tight in her arms. Lexa’s lips are skimming over her cheek, the ghost of their touch left on the pale skin. Clarke smiles, caressing Lexa’s back, her fingertips running over solid, stretched muscles, to reach her shoulders and hug her neck.

“You should keep it”.

“Hm?”

“You’re wearing my sweatshirt, you should keep it” Lexa’s lips are on her neck, now, and Clarke sighs, enforcing the grip and stroking Lexa’s nape with short nails “It suits you”.

“You think?” Clarke’s voice is already hoarse, and surely not because she woke up not much earlier. Her throat is way too dry. It almost hurts when she tries to swallow anything more than air.

“Do you know how many times I dreamed about this? About you, in my clothes?”

Lexa’s voice is so dangerously low and deeply warm that Clarke feels the floor going soft under her feet. She embraces Lexa’s neck, holding herself for dear life or she’s sure she will fall.

“How many times?” She doesn’t know how she had managed to whisper the question, her voice quivering on trembling lips. She closes her eyes when she feels Lexa’s lips enlaced on her pulse point, tenderly sucking the soft flesh, grazing it briefly with her teeth.

“Not less than a million” Lexa hot breath tickles her ear and the only rational thought that Clarke is able to formulate is that she could die. She could die right there, in her arms, and be absolutely happy with it. “But you simply outdo my imagination.”

Clarke shivers. She is clay in Lexa’s hands. The brunette can mold and shape her how she pleases. She could command anything of her and she would oblige.

The blonde fails to bite back a moan when Lexa’s lips are back on her neck, and the soft sound cuts the thick air. She feels a sweet smile against her skin, followed by a burning, freezing tongue. She can’t identify the sensation. Clarke tilts her head to search the brunette’s mouth and their lips crash together. A growling breath collides with her groan.

Clarke hadn’t noticed that they had been moving until she feels the edge of the desk press against her thighs. Lexa’s lips are fiery hot against hers and when her tongue slides into Clarke’s mouth she can’t help but let a hitched whimper of pleasure slip out.

Lexa slowly traces Clarke’s soft hips, moving her hand lower to reach the hem of the sweatshirt, pressing Clarke lightly against the desk. She tastes Clarke’s bare thighs with her fingertips and flashes of light explode behind her closed eyes. A flow of unbearable lust erupting in her veins makes her shudder with anticipation.

“Sei bellissima”   / _You’re beautiful_ /

It’s a whisper against Clarke’s lips, who answers by holding Lexa impossibly close. She captures Lexa’s lower lip between her teeth, biting hard. Lexa hisses a breath. Clarke’s hands slip under the neck of Lexa’s t-shirt. The gesture, not really with a specific purpose, is elicited by the raw need to feel, in any way, Lexa’s skin under her hands. To _touch_ her.

Her hips leave the desk when she starts padding towards the bed, forced to walk on tiptoe as to not part from Lexa’s mouth, pushing her backward.

When they stop against the edge of the bed, she pushes the brunette to sit on the mattress, not without effort. Clarke follows the movement, straddling the other girl’s hips. The sweatshirt rolls up along her legs, the soft cotton of Lexa’s pants scratching the overheated skin of her inner thighs.

They can’t stop kissing, nipping lips, moving their tongues in mesmerizing accord.

Lexa’s hands are pure fire on her legs, grazing the skin with calloused palms and fingers, pressing onto her backside, dragging Clarke closer, squeezing. The blonde rolls her hips, the movement demanded by an inebriating urge, whimpering when she presses herself against Lexa’s clenched abdomen.

The older girl starts pulling the sweater over Clarke’s waist with unsteady hands and the blonde pushes on her shoulders again, forcing her to lay down on the bed.

They look at each other, both breathless, parting for the first time. Lexa’s green eyes are frenzied, feverish and so impossibly dark that Clarke feels a painful intoxication flowing under her skin. Burning, eating, destroying any other sense beyond plain instinct. There’s something so raw and fierce pooling in them while they jump around her body, that Clarke feels her chest quiver.

It’s something so overwhelming that, for a moment, she doesn’t know if she can stand it. Everything about Lexa has been created to ignite her every cell, to burn her down with craving.

Clarke nips at her own bottom lip and, in a rush of boldness, removes the implicated sweatshirt.

A cascade of golden locks around her shoulders follows the movement. When she looks at Lexa again her emerald eyes steal her breath away.

Lexa is looking at her with something she never saw before, pooling in her forest irises. It’s archaic, unknown, obscure. There’s the distinct feeling of possessiveness, lust, passion, _hunger._ And something that is purely Lexa’s essence and makes Clarke’s mind go blank and her stomach lurch with desire and worry.

Lexa slowly lowers the straps of Clarke’s lacy bra, taking her time to kiss her shoulder. Clarke frees her arms from the straps and she sucks in a breath of anticipation when Lexa’s hands move to her back.

The brunette unties the garment and tosses it aside without moving her eyes away from Clarke. Lexa stays still for an over dilated second and a bolt of fear stabs Clarke’s stomach for the second time.

Maybe she’s not enough, she’s not what Lexa was expecting, what she undeniably _deserves._ She closes her eyes and she tries to swallow her spiking anxiety, shivering, her arms still along her sides.

When she reopens them, she meets Lexa’s burning gaze. She’s looking at her with parted lips. Clear, plain devotion is depicted in her eyes, a hand frozen halfway between the bed and her torso.

“Clarke”.

It’s just her name. It’s just her name, she thinks, still, she feels the world hidden behind those syllables. It’s a plea for permission. A declaration of her adoration. A statement of how endearing the vision displayed in front of her is. And Clarke can’t find her normal breathe anymore. Her heart beats too fast. She just nods, shutting her eyes, not even knowing what she’s trying to say.

Then Lexa’s hands, and, above all, Lexa’s mouth is _everywhere_.

“Splendida. Splendida”    / _Gorgeous_ /

She keeps chanting her sweet words against her skin, while she tries to reach every spot of Clarke’s torso at once. And Clarke is totally hypnotized by the melodic sounds that leave Lexa’s mouth. She wants to drink the lyrics from her plump lips, sucking in her essence like pure water from an untainted spring.

Lexa lowers her mouth, kissing her way to one breast and caressing the other with a soft, hesitating touch.

“Ah-n” Is the sound, escaping Clarke’s lips, which accompanies Lexa’s movement, when the brunette’s lips close around one breast. Insane, she’ll go insane at any moment now.

Clarke’s unsteady hands grip Lexa’s t-shirt, where the fabric is stretched over her shoulder blades, and the brunette parts from her chest just long enough to let Clarke undress her. The blonde softly hugs Lexa’s head when her mouth is back on her tender skin. Kissing, sucking with caution, making Clarke squirm and moan into her arms.

The coolness of the sheets against her back elicits an unsteady breath from Clarke as Lexa abruptly makes her lay on the bed. Her blissful weight pins Clarke against the mattress. They both suppress a groan against each other’s lips when their bare chests touch, their lips crashing together in heated kisses.

Clarke pulls Lexa’s pants down and the brunette helps her, in a brief moment of lucidity. She tosses them aside before stretching back over the blonde, enlacing her lips on Clarke’s neck. A thigh slips between Clarke’s and the delectable friction elicits a throaty sound from the blonde. Lexa feels a deafening blackout shutting down her brain, roaring in her ears the moment she presses against Clarke’s boiling warm skin.

Clarke is not breathing well at all while she anchors herself on Lexa’s muscular back, pressing her nails in the warm, taut skin. She starts to feel a burning pain in her womb when the brunette’s lips leave her neck to kiss her collarbones, the delicious portion of skin between her breasts, her flat stomach. Lexa’s hands never cease to caress her ribs, her hips. Never hesitate to seize her breast with the most divine dose of strength.

Not enough. It’s not _enough_.  

“Lexa” A soft whine. Clarke pleads, twisting her hands into Lexa’s soft curls, scratching her skin lightly.

But Lexa keeps kissing her abdomen, peppering it with soft taps of her tongue, going lower and lower, taking her time without giving Clarke what she needs.

“Tell me what you want, Clarke” She demands, running her tongue over Clarke’s hipbone before biting the skin tensed over the other one.

Clarke barely manages to think that maybe this is too much. No, she’s almost sure she can’t stand this. She can’t survive the arousal that’s deeply burning in her, scorching the upper layer of her skin. She can’t survive Lexa’s hands, Lexa’s mouth, and listening to Lexa saying her name at the same time.

“Touch me” She pants out an answer, before reconsidering it “Touch my soul”.

There’s the ghost of a grin against Clarke’s skin. And Lexa is kissing her inner thigh, devoting the same attention to both groins. Too slow. She’s too slow.

A brief, sharp cry welcomes Lexa’s mouth on her core, and with the feeling of her tongue caressing, flicking in the tortuously right places, Clarke loses her grip on the real world. Clarke claws the hem of the pillow under her head, trying to find a handhold, while her body lives of her own volition.

She whimpers her pleasure, trembling on the bed, under Lexa’s calloused palms run over her stomach and down to her hips to keep them from canting towards her lips. Holding her, Lexa brings one thigh over her shoulder to change the angle and lead her in a game in which she is the unconditioned ruler.

She relishes Clarke, slowly, faster. Tasting, exploring, _sucking_.

“Lex-ah”

She pleads for her, in the twirling chaos inside her head, invoking both her name and God with throaty sobs when two fingers become part of her without hurry, pressing, pushing in at a perfect pace. A new unbearable wave of ecstasy rolls through her, eating every logical and rational thought.

She feels Lexa’s digit curling inside her and a painful shock burns her nerves, amplifying every sensation mixing with the heat simmering in her lower abdomen. She grasps Lexa’s free hand while it wanders over her body, keeping her hips steady with light touches. The brunette stops her caresses to enlace their fingers and Clarke opens her eyes, pushing her hips to follow Lexa’s pushes. When she meets two burning green irises looking at her through long eyelashes, from between her _legs_ , she feels her heart break down in her ribs.

Clarke arches her back when a wave of cooling pleasure burns her soul. She crushes Lexa’s hand in her own, the other clinging to the sheets. A sharp, loud sound cuts the air, deafening her, and she realizes after mere seconds that it’s her own voice.

She cries and invokes Lexa’s name, again and again, her closed eyes not allowing her to see the totally enthralled way the brunette is looking at her.

Clarke is still shaking, her climax fading away, when she feels Lexa’s body pressing again on hers. The brunette peppers her face with tender kisses, her mouth a fresh sensation against Clarke’s scorching skin.

The blonde searches for her lips, kissing her breathless while she abandons her trembling body in Lexa’s embrace, her chest rising and falling in fast sequence.

When they part Lexa’s eyes are still dark and languid, her face flushed from arousal.

“Meravigliosa” She murmurs, making Clarke shiver again.  She doesn’t translate it and Clarke doesn’t asks her to. She doesn’t need it, she doesn’t even want it. “Meravigliosa”.  / _Gorgeous_ /

Clarke’s hands envelop her back, holding her impossibly close, and Lexa hides her nose in her blonde locks, inhaling the scent of citrus and dampened skin.

“Ti amo”

It’s a whisper, muffled in her hair, but Clarke heard it. She freezes, her mind feverishly working around the words to register them. To disentangle the simple pattern of letters that Lexa offered her with plain sincerity. To understand if she acknowledged the meaning right or if she’s just dreaming.

“Io ti amo, Clarke” Lexa is looking at her now, her gaze unbearably intense in its softness. Lexa is not waiting for anything, not asking for anything in return, she’s just smiling her tender, lopsided grin while she drinks from the endearing vision in front of her. Clarke is looking at her totally entranced; her cheekbones still flushed, her slightly parted lips, trying to catch some air, but she can just swallow deeply.   

“I love you too” Clarke’s voice is unsteady from the rush of emotions, she feels her lips quiver around every syllable.

Lexa is almost surprised and looks at her with wide eyes, her smile growing. Her pupils hungrily bite the irises, darkening her gaze, turning it almost fiery. There’s a moment of awkward stillness where they just look at each other and a timid smile starts to rise on Clarke’s lips.

Then they burst out laughing, Clarke hugs Lexa’s waist tighter and they kiss messily, neither of them able to stop the laugh. It’s a playful clash of teeth and swollen lips. Their smiles slowly fade as they lose themselves in the kiss. Clarke pushes Lexa against the mattress, finding a comfortable position between her thighs and the brunette just groans.

 

She doesn’t quite understand what or who Lexa is swearing, in her native language, but she’s sure she wouldn’t rather listen to anything else.

 

A sigh dances in the silence of the room, articulated by a pair of soft, swollen lips. Lexa nuzzles her nose in the hollow of her own elbow, her cheek, stroking the warm skin of her shoulder. She’s in a wonderful heaviness, dictated by an excessive linger oF sinful activities and following naps.

Her arms are both raised to rest on the pillow, her chest pressed against the soft silkiness of her sheets. Clarke’s hand runs along her arm, eliciting goose bumps on Lexa’s skin, and ends its journey intertwining her fingers with Lexa’s. The blonde, half covering the other girl’s body, moves to paint the pattern of Lexa’s tattoos with her lips, which mark her nape and her back.

She stops when she can’t push her mouth any further without leaving her comfortable position. Again she admires the drawings engraved in Lexa’s dusky skin. A large, incomplete, infinity symbol is tattooed on her neck’s vertebras. Below it, a long, intricate series of swirling traits of ink, line her back with straight lines and shaded circles.

“You didn’t tell me you had other tattoos” Clarke’s voice is soft, barely louder than a whisper, while she runs her fingerprints on Lexa’s heated skin. She traces the outline of the bigger circle.

“You never asked” Lexa retorts with a smirk and raspy voice. She opens one eye, even though she can’t see Clarke from her position. She squeezes Clarke’s fingers, which stay still between her own, for a second. Clarke rolls her eyes, but she doesn’t answer to the teasing.

“They’re beautiful. Did Anya do these too?”

“Hm mh” Lexa murmurs, while she closes her eye again, enjoying the fact that Clarke drops other brief kisses along her spine and nape “The incomplete infinity is the symbol of Trigeda Tech. My parents wanted to change the old one and my mom created it. She says that technology is a never ending path through discovery and improvements, but it will always be incomplete if not used by a human heart.” She laughs briefly “My dad may have inherited the company, but my mom it’s the real engineer in the family.”

Clarke joins her small laugh. She remembers the funny stories Lexa told her about how her parents met at college, her mom a lioness in a world ruled by men. Stretching her back, she kisses Lexa’s cheek. The brunette lifts her face, turning to meet Clarke’s lips in a delicate, sweet kiss.

“And the other one?” The blonde inquires, bringing her eyes back on Lexa’s tattoo. She lightly presses her index finger on the final small circle, engraved over the last evident vertebra above the delectable curve of Lexa’s strong back. She feels her quiver under her gesture.

“It’s the first tattoo I got, I was sixteen and my mom was so mad when she saw it” She can’t help but chuckle at the memory of her mother, hands raised in the air, yelling at her, in Italian and dialect, that she was irresponsible and reckless “Anya has a matching one on her thigh. It represents our family, a circle for every member: The first big one represents Anya in mine, and myself in hers. Then there are our parents, a pretty big circle for our grandma, who basically raised Anya and me, and the last three for the rest of our grandparents.”           

Lexa feels Clarke’s lips stretching into a smile, against the base of her neck. She lifts one corner of her lips in a contented grin.

“That’s so sweet” The blonde murmurs on her skin, slightly amused. Lexa lets Clarke kiss her neck as long as she pleases, slightly squirming under her attention. When Clarke ceases her ministrations she turns in her arms to face her, hugging her waist and pulling her forward so she can relax on her body. The sensation of bare creamy skin against tanned skin makes both of them smile. They kiss, sloppily.

They had been in bed for almost the whole morning. Rolling between the sheets, kissing, exploring their bodies, making the other one moan and cry, just resting in that pleasurable bliss been between wakefulness and drowsiness.

Lexa murmured so many times those two sweet, Italian words that Clarke’s ears are saturated by the sound. They’re like one of those songs that you keep listening to again and again, never getting tired of its notes and tones.   

Clarke parts from her and brushes a lock of chestnut hair back on the pillow. She nips her own lower lip while she peers over Lexa’s face, meeting her gaze and ending up trapped in its deepness.

“Lex… I… This morning has been…” She struggles to find an adjective that doesn’t sounds too lame or too childish. Lexa speaks before she has the chance to make up her mind. “I know. I’m incredible”

Clarke looks at her, sealing her lips and closing her eyes for a moment, when she opens them back up she gives Lexa another glare and shakes her head lightly “I was trying to say something serious, you…”

“I think you were calling me God ten minutes ago”

Clarke snorts, rolling her eyes, unable to believe to her own ears “You’re impossible.” She prevents Lexa from kissing her, tilting her head away. The brunette just laughs at her scorn, relaxing her head again on the cushion. She runs her fingers along Clarke’s back, tasting the soft skin with her rough fingerprints.

A comfortable silence surrounds them, Clarke observes the outlined collarbones on Lexa’s chest. She can’t help but touch them, brushing the straight hard lines with her index. The warmth of their bodies, entwined under the blankets, is a cradling delight. The blonde seems lost in her thoughts while Lexa gazes at her features; The proximity allows her to notice that parts of her blonde eyelashes are almost white, burned by the sun. She tenderly smiles to herself as she cozily considers it a madly charming detail . Lexa stays silent, giving her time to voice what is swirling in her mind.

“My first time was with Finn. We were fifteen.” Clarke eventually breaks the silence, her eyes firmly watching Lexa’s chest even as she frowns at her own words. “We were kids, we didn’t even know what we were doing. I don’t know which one between us needed it the most.” A bitter laugh leaves Clarke’s pink lips. Lexa doesn’t release a single sound, letting the girl speak freely.

“He wanted to be the first among his friends to do it, I just needed to feel someone close. My dad had died three months before, and my mom had to work the whole day since she was trying to soothe her own grief. We knew he was about to pass away, he had leukemia, but we suddenly felt so lost without him.” Clarke’s voice quivers on the last sentence and she stops briefly. Her eyes flutter toward Lexa’s and she finds jade sweetness looking at her. She is not pitying her. She’s just looking at her with such deep, bright adoration that Clarke’s hands tremble for a moment. Lexa doesn’t say anything, she just softens, if possible, her touches along Clarke’s hips.

“I thought I loved Finn. Maybe I really did for a while, I don’t know. I was lost in a horrible void made of pain and loss. I gained weight, then became almost anorexic in only one year when he told me I was getting fat. I was so unstable. One minute I didn’t care about anything and the next I was crying in the middle of a party. And I hated myself so much, I almost couldn’t look at my reflection… I thought I wasn’t enough for Finn and at the same time I was so needy for somebody who could take care of me, love me, and I was so possessive and jealous over him. He wasn’t strong enough to support me, to understand me; He wasn’t mature enough for this. I can’t blame him because we were teens and I still think that it was my fault as well, but before the beginning of the last year of high school I found out that he was cheating on me and we broke up.” Her voice cracks on the last words and she doesn’t add further details, fearing she will start to cry. She seals her lips to swallow back a whimper.

Lexa sucks in her lower lip, scanning Clarke’s cobalt blue, watery eyes. She doesn’t say anything for a long moment and Clarke closes her eyes when she’s unable to hold back her tears anymore. Lexa’s silence is scraping a hole in her stomach, the caustic ache of fear expanding like black poison. She’s afraid she said too much. She’s afraid that she ruined a perfect moment, that she revealed to Lexa what she really is; A broken, used shell. She finds herself tenderly trapped between Lexa’s strong arms before Clarke can even register the movement and the gesture almost startles her. The girl lulls her, leaving a ghosting kiss on her temple. Clarke nuzzles her nose in the crook of Lexa’s neck, letting small tears fall from her closed eyes, her hands grasping at Lexa’s shoulders.

“You’re one of the bravest people I’ve ever met Clarke. That was not your fault. Even if he wasn’t strong enough to face that situation, that wasn’t a reason to cheat on you and make you suffer. He didn’t deserve the wonderful, beautiful, strong person you are” Lexa murmurs in her ear and Clarke satiates her soul with that soothing flow of melodic accented words. She sobs softly against Lexa’s skin; She smells of soap and a tinge of lilies, which Clarke recognizes as some well-known female perfume, mixed with the bittersweet scent of her skin.

The brunette feels her heart ache in front of Clarke’s weakness. She cuddles the girl in her arms with tender touches and kisses. Clarke is so… young in this moment, that Lexa can’t help but feel a protective rage building in her chest. She closes her eyes, shaking away the anger she feels, but holding onto the resolution that she won’t let anyone hurt her again.

“Ti amo” The words are breathed against her hair, where Lexa places multiple small kisses. Clarke nods once against Lexa’s warm flesh, to tell her she believes what she told her, and she murmurs a trembling “I love you”.

She presses her lips against the brunette’s neck and the slow rhythmic beat of her heart, pumping under her mouth, slowly calms her down. She feels safe, cherished in Lexa’s protective embrace and comforted by her soft words.

They fall into silence again and Clarke raises her head when the tears stop. A flickering smile opens the blonde’s lips and Lexa kisses her tenderly.

“How about I go grab something for breakfast while you laze here?”

Clarke bumps her nose tip against Lexa’s before looking at her lovingly “You’re so perfect”

The brunette chuckles “And you haven’t even tasted the cake I baked yesterday.”

Clarke rolls from on top of her, collapsing in the silken sheets with a sigh out of frustration “You’ll make me get fat” she jokes, not bothering to cover her breasts. Lexa swallows hard while she slips into her sweatpants, too focused on Clarke’s round flesh to notice the gaze that the blonde is giving her whole figure.

“We’ll find a way to burn calories” Lexa shakes her head to push away the urge to climb on the bed again. Clarke giggles and nods once “Deal.”

 

 

“No, you have to roll, bend, _then_ press”

Another snort leaves Clarke’s lips. She tilts her head towards her free shoulder, the right one towered by Lexa’s head. The taller girl stands behind her and guides her hands in the soft dough they’re mixing. Lexa’s slender fingers, completely dusted by the flour, cover Clarke’s shorter ones, making her hands follow the instructions she just told her.  

“Lexa I know how to knead pizza dough”

“You clearly don’t”

Clarke grunts in annoyance, rolling her eyes, but she unconsciously relaxes further against Lexa’s chest. She clearly feels the brunette’s rib cage vibrate, wiggling under the rhythm of Lexa’s chuckle. The brunette kisses her cheek and Clarke inevitably smiles.

“And it’s ‘Pizza’,  with two ‘z’, there’s no ‘d’. ‘Peetsa’ ” She tries to articulate the sound as clearly as possible, pressing the heel of her hands in the fresh pastry.

“Pee..dsa”

Lexa’s sharp, limpid laugh cracks in Clarke’s ear and she hits her with her backside, jerking it backward against Lexa’s hips, declaring her indignation “Fuck off”.

Lexa just follows the movement before leaning against her again, still laughing.

“You just can’t say it” She plunges her mouth into the crook of Clarke’s neck, in an attempt to stifle her cackle, and the blonde raises her shoulder to shoo her away. The brunette kisses the skin, just behind her ear, making a light shudder run through her spine “And you’re adorable”

Clarke snaps her tongue “You pronounce things wrong in English as well, you know”.

“Sure. And I bet I’m adorable too”.

Clarke just sighs, her answer a short shake of her head. Mostly because Lexa is right and she doesn’t want to admit for the umpteenth time how much she loves her accent, but also because she hasn’t really found something that the brunette does that she doesn’t utterly adore. And she’s not sure she wants to give her this information.

Lexa maneuvers the mixture between their hands, bending it over their fingers to eliminate the dampened flour that is still glued to their skin.

“Here… let me taste” She asks, dropping a faint kiss on Clarke’s ear, uncovered by blonde locks, which are held in a messy bun. Clarke pinches a piece of straw-colored dough from the ball between her hands and brings it to Lexa’s mouth, curling her elbow. Her eyes follow the movement and she observes Lexa’s lips brushing her fingers, in the faintest touch, while she captures the pinch of pastry.

“ _Perfetta_ ” She remarks, accentuating the sound of the ‘p’ with a comical smack of her lips. Lexa presses her smile against Clarke’s cheekbone when she hears the blonde’s huffed laugh. The brunette rounds the ball with soft pats, before placing it in a bowl which was waiting to fulfill its purpose. Clarke mutters a complaint when Lexa bends over the refined work table to cover the bowl with a clean dishcloth; The movement forces her to bend as well, almost laying on the cool steel.  / _Perfect_ /

“And now it just has to rise” Lexa concludes with a satisfied wave of her hand, straightening again her back and freeing Clarke, who dramatically sighs to specify her resentment.

Clarke turns on her feet, finding herself trapped in a warm cage when Lexa’s hands find a prop on the polished surface of the kitchen counter. Her face is now perfectly leveled with hers. Clarke takes her face between her hands and kisses the brunette, lightly tapping her cheekbones with her fingerprints, in an affectionate gesture.

“You’re greasing me” Lexa murmurs against her lips, but she doesn’t interrupt the kiss, not even when Clarke’s muffled sound of confusion crashes against soft, plump skin. The blonde parts and looks puzzled at her.

“Your hands, they’re oiled and you’re painting my face with it”

Clarke raises her hands in mid air, blue eyes rolling “Let me go then, so I won’t stain your precious skin”

Lexa shakes her head, playfully smiling, and uses her hips to press Clarke a bit further against the hard edge. “You like my precious skin”. The tip of Lexa’s nose finds the softness of Clarke’s neck, just under her ear, and she brushes a caress before pressing her lips against it. She feels Clarke’s throat shudder slightly while the blonde retorts. It makes Lexa smile without a real reason.

“And you like my paintings, so where’s the problem?”

“The problem is that usually the oil goes on a canvas and not on me”

“Woman, you can’t just be happy”

Lexa openly laughs against her neck, making Clarke squirm a bit under the ticklish sensation. The blonde searches her lips and they kiss again, slowly and without involving their hands. When they part they both see, mirrored in the other pair of eyes, a lustful fondness, son of the recent intimacy they discovered.

Lexa is looking at her with nothing less than plain, simple adoration in her jade eyes. She averts her gaze just for a moment, gazing at Clarke’s lips in a flash. The engraved shadow of the tiny beauty mark above her upper lip lingers on Lexa’s retinas. Like she has watched the sun for too long. The blonde openly smiles, noticing Lexa’s move and she bats her eyelids.

“I assure you, I can be very happy” Lexa croaks, lifting one hand to lightly touch that small, perfect imperfection above her mouth. Clarke’s smile turns impossibly wide hearing that dangerous, beloved undertone. She kisses Lexa’s fingertips in a soft flash.

“Good.” Clarke answers before pushing Lexa back, pressing on her chest with the back of her hand to avoid greasing the girl’s sweater. The brunette doesn’t resist the push, taking a couple of steps backward. She observes Clarke walking toward the sink to wash her hands and she follows her for the same purpose.

The blonde then hops up on the counter, looking at Lexa who dries her hands with a cloth before approaching her. She finds a comfortable stand between Clarke’s legs, a simple yet immediate caress along the blonde’s thighs. Smaller hands rest on straight shoulders.

Lexa is looking at her from her lower position with a tender gaze. She talks before Clarke has the chance to kiss the inappropriate fullness of her lips.

“Yesterday when we were talking about Thanksgiving… I remembered that I didn’t tell you that my sister is coming here during that week.”

A enthusiast smile cracks open Clarke’s mouth “Really? Great!” Lexa just smiles peering over Clarke’s face, drinking from her excitement. “I can’t wait to meet her in person”

“Clarke, I warn you, Anya is a good person, but she can be…” Lexa doesn’t find the adjective, and raises her index finger, like she’s trying to point to an idea that she can’t quite express “..intense.”

Clarke narrows her eyes, her fingers playing with the soft curls on Lexa’s nape that had slipped away from her ponytail. She shakes her head slowly to tell Lexa she doesn’t understand what she means.

“She is the upgraded version of Raven. Of the embarrassing, teasing, out of place Raven”

“Oh”

“Yea”   

“Well, let’s hope they won’t team up”

“Oh Signore!” Lexa blurts out, barely able to contain the blasphemy that was rushing towards her lips. She looks at Clarke with slightly widened eyes and the blonde laughs at her terrified expression.  / _Oh Lord_ /

“Lex you’re scaring me, you said that your sister is the wise one!”

“Yes, but she has absolutely no filter! I can’t even think what she’s going to tell you about me”

Clarke tilts her head, raising a single eyebrow “Worried about your secrets?” She mocks her.

Lexa rolls her eyes “Please don’t. What I’m talking about is her ability to be embarrassing beyond every human boundary”

Clarke chuckles, pulling a frustrated Lexa in for a kiss. She feels her sigh against her lips and she parts for the briefest moment “We’ll survive babe”. The soft reassurance slips through her lips in a huskier tone than she estimated, and Lexa’s lips press harder against her own. The brunette’s hands find the tender skin in the socket of her knee, dragging her closer, until she’s pressed against her stomach.

Lexa changes the angle of the kiss, and their lips connect in a deliciously perfect union of soft flesh. When Lexa’s hands seize the small of her back, sliding slowly down her backside, Clarke hums. She lets her fingernails run lightly through the tied locks behind Lexa’s ears.

“I’m hungry” Clarke mutters, not ceasing the kiss. Lexa snorts a laugh and parts from her.

“I know, just give it at least one hour” she waves her hand to point the bowl with the dough.

“But I’m starving”

Lexa raises one eyebrow, looking rather amused “I brought you breakfast not even two hours ago, Clarke. You ate like half a cake”

“I know…” The blonde says, still amazed by the fact that in Italy breakfast is like a kid’s biggest dream. Cakes, pastries, sweets… everything is allowed “But you can’t say we didn’t, uhm, burnt calories” Green eyes observe the faint redness creeping over Clarke’s cheekbones before meeting her sky-blue gaze again.

“Are you really blushing?” Lexa asks, teasing her.

Clarke averts her glare for a second, her skin heating up even more at Lexa’s mocking tone “No”

“Hm.:”

Clarke feels the coolness of Lexa’s fresh lips on her scorching skin and she closes her eyes, enjoying the sensation of the brunette’s smile against her cheek. She’s quite grateful that the brunette doesn’t seem to intend to prolong her taunting.

“Why don’t we go back to our rooms, so you can invite Raven to have lunch with us? If she didn’t eat yet, it’s probably a bit late”

“She’s probably still studying and forgot that she has to actually eat sometimes to stay alive” Clarke says shaking her head lightly with a sigh. She jumps off the counter, holding the hand Lexa offered to her for help. “Let’s go, so I can at least change and give you back your clothes”. She points at herself, and Lexa can’t help but gaze at her whole figure. Clarke is once again wearing her soft cream colored sweatshirt and a pair of her sweatpants. She sucks in her lip while she considers how much she loves seeing the blonde in her clothes, seeing how differently they hugs their bodies. Lexa’s body shape is surely toned, but rather different than Clarke’s, who has slightly wider hips and a significantly bigger cleavage, which is momentarily being tightly hugged by the white fabric. She drinks from the vision of the thick, dark blue jersey stretched over Clarke’s thighs and she smiles, inevitably, when she notices how it folds in on itself, above the ankle cuff, due to the fact that Clarke’s legs are shorter.

“The pants maybe, but the sweatshirt… just keep it”

Clarke nips her lower lip, tilting her head and looking bemused. She intertwines her fingers with Lexa’s “Why don’t you want it back? It’s so soft, I’m sure it’s by some fancy Italian brand”

“Maybe” Lexa’s emerald eyes are tinged with a darker shade made of liquid fire. She moves in a step, invading Clarke’s personal space “But I couldn’t wear it anymore without thinking about _how_ you look in it, and that I would really prefer peeling it off of you”. Her voice once again hits dangerously low notes while she mutters close to Clarke’s lips.

The blonde considers, for a second, just how she will be able to spend whole days studying, focusing her mind or, even simply living, with images like that one imprinted in her brain. She wants that sweatshirt now. She’s not sure she wants to wear anything besides that sweatshirt.

“I guess I have to keep it then” She answer with half hooded eyes, a small seductive grin on her lips. Lexa nods and parts from her without the kiss the blonde was waiting for.

“Good. Now go. I’ll clean up the mess we made here”  Lexa points at the flour sprinkled all over the counter along with dirty bowls and boxes of ingredients.

“But I don’t want you to clean all of it by yourself”

Lexa shrugs “It’s not a problem. Also I need to stay away from you at least five minutes…”

“Rude”

“… Or I’ll need a potassium cyanide shower to calm down” She concludes, taking a step back and releasing Clarke’s hand, who breathes a brief laugh.

“Ok, I’ll be in my room then. But I want to choose the toppings, so don’t you dare start baking it without me” She gets close to Lexa again, rising up on her tiptoes to softly kiss her cheek.

The older girl breathes a chuckle “As long as you don’t put pineapple on it”.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is my first time writing smut in english so any feedback will be greatly appreciated. I kept it rather soft so let me know if you liked it this way or if you prefer the future smut to be more sinful ;) (Yes you'll have plenty of smut)
> 
> Also, BRACE YOURSELVES ITALIAN ANYA IS COMING. Can't wait to write her <3


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anya is here. Brace yourselves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that it took so much time to update. Really, but this chapter was incredibly hard to write and I don't even know why.  
> I love Anya, really, but writing her character is a fucking nightmare.  
> Anyway, thank you as always for comments and kudos, I love you all and I hope you'll enjoy the chapter!  
> <3
> 
> To a Danish Hufflepuff who helped me a lot.

### Chapter 9

 

She loves her.

She has said that. She has said exactly that.

Well, not exactly with these words. She had used her sweet, enticing language and her scratchy tone to murmur “ _Ti amo”_  in her ear for the whole night, making her shiver, and smile, and sigh, and laugh.

Lexa loves her.

She has said that. Kissing her closed eyes, brushing her lips against her soft skin, heated and reddened by their love making, pressing her mouth against her own, devouring her cries.

She has said that. And Clarke believes every single word, every precious syllable, every letter reflected in Lexa’s soft gesture, glimmering in her warm, forest eyes.

Lexa has asked her to stay, to sleep with her for the second night in a row and she has accepted without even letting her finish the question, making the brunette huff a laugh from contentment.

Clarke smiles against her own palms, the fresh water cleaning the traces of her sleep. She looks at herself in the mirror, hanging over the white ceramic washbasin and she peeks at her wetted face, drops running down her skin and losing themselves over the edge of her lips, collapsing against her smile. She looks stupidly happy.

It’s the first time in her life that she looks at herself and actually _thinks_ such a thing, but she reads it in her enlightened lineaments, in her glistening eyes, almost veiled by an immaculate rhapsody, clear like transparent polish. She suffocates her grin against the soft fabric of the hand towel she recovered from under the sink and she dries her face.

Clarke allows herself just a moment of delight when she puts her toothbrush back in the glass that contains Lexa’s. She had brought it the previous night in Lexa’s bathroom, to have it ready for the morning, and the fact that Lexa suggested the  idea is more than enough to erase from Clarke’s mind all Raven’s mocking about the fact that they’re “Moving really fast given that they’re already living together”.  

Lulling herself in the childish sensation of being completely, mindlessly, in love she opens the door, going back to Lexa’s room. She breathes a laugh when she sees the brunette laying on the covers, still wearing only a t-shirt and a pair of panties and with her face half sunk in the pillow.

Lexa cracks her eye open when she hears Clarke and sleepily grunts, the sound dying against the cotton fabric covering her mouth.

“Didn’t you want to go running before your lesson? I thought you would be already gone by now” The blonde asks, padding toward the bed, while she rolls down the sleeves of Lexa’s sweatshirt, the long sleeves covering part of her hands. The garment has already become her official sleepwear and either of them has any complaint about her choice.

Lexa grunts another whine and she rolls on her back, with an exaggerated grimace of suffering painted in her sharp features. She opens her arms, closing again her eyes, in a clear invitation for Clarke to join her. The blonde climbs on to the bed with a knee before stretching herself in Lexa’s embrace with a soft sound of satisfaction, her nose already nuzzling the comforting curve between the brunette’s neck and shoulder. She inhales the comforting warm scent of Lexa’s tan skin, the tip of her nose tickling the smoothness of her neck; She smells of exotic places and flowers and something that she can’t define, but she definitely loves.

Lexa envelops her waist with an arm, the other palm already running on Clarke’s bare thigh, anchored over her hip, eliciting immediate goose bumps on the warm skin.

“I’m tired” Lexa finally answers, her voice still hoarse and scratching although she had woken up before Clarke. The grave sound makes the blonde smile while she starts pressing soft kisses along Lexa’s neck. The brunette tilts her head to one side, exposing more skin to Clarke, and doesn’t even try to stop the shiver, running through her spine, when Clarke sucks between her lips the soft spot just under her ear.

“Do you want to go back to sleep?” Clarke’s voice is soft and alluring in her ear and Lexa’s hand squeezes a little harder the blonde’s thigh, her fingers curling in the hollow of her knee to pull the blonde’s leg upward, until Clarke finds herself practically straddling her.

“Right now? Not really” Lexa’s voice is almost a grumble and Clarke bites her inner cheek for a second to avoid losing her lead in that luscious game, crumbling under the ascendant Lexa has on her.

“No?”

Clarke playfully asks for confirmation, murmuring against Lexa’s ear. Her hand sneaking under the hem of Lexa’s shirt to taste the smoothness of her tan skin, brushing her fingerprints on the flat, toned stomach; The labored breath that leaves Lexa’s lips is her reward.

“Hm m-h”

The answer comes after a moment, shattered, when Clarke’s hand encircle one of the brunette’s breasts, her thumb brushing against her nipple, once. Lexa seems lit on fire by the gesture and, turning her head, she searches the blonde’s lips in a voracious kiss, tasting the mint of her own toothpaste on Clarke’s swollen skin.

She has never really liked mint, but the cocktail it creates with Clarke’s soft flavor of citrus and tart flesh is mind-blowing and addicting and she wants to taste nothing else in the morning for the rest of her life.

Especially because it means that Clarke has used _her_ toothpaste.

She captures the softness of Clarke’s lower lip between her teeth, gently sucking while a sigh crashes on her own mouth. Her hands cradling the blonde’s legs, ending their journey on the delightful roundness of Clarke’s backside, pressing her against her own body.

Clarke stops her, pulling at her t-shirt. Lexa raises her arms, reluctantly abandoning Clarke’s body to let the blonde undress her, wet kisses on her chest follows the soundless landing of her shirt on the floor.

Velvety hands envelop Lexa’s wrists and the brunette doesn’t resist Clarke while the blonde brings her arms beside her head, arching her back to lower her mouth on Lexa’s body, kissing and scraping her teeth on her sternum. Blonde locks brushing imaginary patterns on her burning body, following Clarke’s movements, and the ticklish sensation is indecently exciting.

“Clarke” Lexa breathes her name in a raspy undertone, when Clarke’s lips closes around her tender breast. She can’t stop a groan at the sensation of the wet tongue run over her heated, sensible skin and she feels her mind sinking in the delectable void that Clarke opened for her with such careful gallantry.

She abandons herself at Clarke’s mouth, at her hand that leaves her wrist to caress her forearm, her arm, her collarbone, in a light tickling that makes her squirm in pleasure and displeasure.

She needs her.

She needs her touch, her kisses, to soothe the sweet, boiling pain which is slithering between her cells from her lower abdomen, reaching her already blurred mind to completely shatter it.

The blonde palms her ribs, her waist stopping for a tormenting long moment on her stomach.

“Dio”  / _God_ /

Clarke smirks at the swear, brushing her flattered smile of happiness against Lexa’s ribs, while she moves toward the other breast, to cherish and relish it equally. Lexa’s brain is incapable of registering that her girlfriend is grinning, totally unable to focus on anything other than that soft, slim hand which is driving her insane. Promising delectable, pleasurable things and giving her _nothing._

“Clarke. Ti prego” / _Please_ /

She doesn’t realize she has spoken in Italian, too lost in the fact that she is already _begging_ Clarke. She can’t think in English, her brain synapses refusing to struggle to find words and translations and synonyms when they’re bathing in the lustful expectation of Clarke’s touch.

“What, _love_?” The blonde perfectly understood, but she doesn’t lose one of the few chances she has to mock Lexa and, at the same time, to gloat over the ascendancy she has on the brunette.

It’s a lenitive balm, a sweet, fresh salve on her scorched soul, torn apart by her lack of self-love. Ripped by years of mourning, of fear, of hate against a reflection painted on mirrors, which simply wasn’t the reality; Distorted and warped by the dark claws and tentacles of wrenching insecurity. _Mended_ not by Lexa’s selfless devotion, by her mellow words and honest kisses, but by her unbreakable certainty that Clarke deserves nothing less.   

A groan welcomes Clarke’s question when it reverberates, burning hot, against Lexa’s sensitive skin. The brunette plunges her free hand in blonde curls, enveloping the back of Clarke’s neck with trembling fingers to draw her in a searing kiss. She wastes no time, pushing her tongue to deepen the kiss and Clarke welcomes it while her hand leaves Lexa’s wrist to intertwine their fingers.

Clarke ceases her tantalization on Lexa’s stomach when the girl whimpers again under her, her abdomen clenching, surrendering at the unbearable grip of lust and excitement and abandon. The blonde sneaks her hand under her panties and a sigh out of frustration and lust accompanies her excessive slowness.

Lexa groans again when Clarke’s fingers finally touch her, diving in the boiling wet warmth of her core, brushing and stroking her alternatively with soft or demanding caresses. The brunette parts from the kiss and she bites her own lips, trying to hold a grip on the real word while her head sinks in the cushion, her eyes shutting close. She misses the dark, gleaming blue of Clarke’s eyes, fixated on her face, on her tensed lineaments; They clench in a grimace of pure pleasure and fulfillment when Clarke insinuates one, two, digits in her.

Curling, pushing, making Lexa’s hips jerk in an attempt to follow the rhythm, letting Clarke lead her at her own pace. The blonde’s lips are on her neck again and she can’t help a hoarse cry ecsaping from the back of her throat when teeth sink in her flesh. Lexa scratches Clarke’s nape with the hand still immerged in her hair, and a wave of pure burning cold ecstasy expands from her groins.

She shudders and, when Clarke’s palm starts pressing against her at every, disarming, push, she feels her mind blacking, erasing the reality and showing her only pure, heavy, pleasure dancing in front of her eyes.

She culminates, calling Clarke’s name only once, exhaling it with a high pitched growl which rolls on her curled lip. Clarke brings her lips on Lexa’s to devour that sound, swallowing her moans while the brunette arches against her body, stiffening and trembling.

Clarke slows her movements to let the girl come down from her apex and Lexa stops her when she tries to draw her fingers out of her, covering the back of her hand with her calloused palm. Clarke huffs a chuckle against the brunette’s cheek, kissing her tenderly, squeezing the fingers of Lexa’s other hand, still held between her own.

“Lex…We’ll be late for classes”

The brunette closes her eyes, relaxing in the cradling burning pleasure still running in her body, soothing and stretching her muscles “I want to feel you for just five more minutes” she croaks, searching Clarke’s lips to kiss her gently. The blonde snorts against her mouth, her heart secretly accelerating the beat in her chest at Lexa’s confession.

“Five more minutes…” She concedes, smiling.

“And then coffee.”

The blonde cackles, pressing her nose against Lexa’s while the brunette grins in return, opening her eyes and sinking in the azure sea in front of her.

“And coffee” Clarke agrees again, as if she’s talking with a child and she kisses again Lexa who keeps grinning against her lips.

“In Italy is a-”

“A matter of life and death, yes, I know”

She doesn’t let Lexa finish the sentence and they both laugh, kissing again in a messy clash of lips, mindlessly procrastinating in a perfect Italian style. And when Lexa’s lips suck tenderly on the lobe of her ear Clarke thinks that, maybe, being a bit late won’t be such a terrible thing.

  
  


A joke.

It’s all a fucking joke.

Raven tries to apply more strength on the brass key held in her fingers. She rolls her wrist, left to right and vice versa, several times in short snippy movements. She grunts out of frustration when the key doesn’t turn smoothly in the lock and the door stands proudly shut in front of her face. She gnashes her teeth, her jaw canting, and she inhales deeply trying to hold on the last string of patience she still has.

She’s studying to become a mechanical engineer. She is able to build a fucking solar panel out of a potato, a copper cable and a compact mirror. She had fixed her mom’s car when she was sixteen. And there she is, losing her synaptic activity and neural functionality over a damn lock.

Raven is silently cursing while she let’s go the small steeled, infernal thing, which remains stuck in the keyhole. She wets her lips before smacking them with a grunt, still unable to believe that she can’t go into her room because she can’t open the door. She peers at her palm, as if the explanation of her inability is written in the lines engraved in the rough skin. She shakes her head, glaring again at the key with the ferocity of a lioness.

“You fucking piece of…”

“Excuse me”

The unknown voice coming from her back startles Raven and she straightens her back at once, in an attempt to hide her surprise and look at ease. She fails.

She glares at the figure behind her from over her shoulder, before turning on the ball of her feet when she sees a stranger. Raven faces the girl who’s looking at her quite amused, her head slightly tilted to one side. The brunette feels a vexing embarrassment painting her cheeks, provoked by the situation she has been caught in. She gazes at the girl, scanning her in a subtle, swift, look.  

“Can I help you?”

The girl cocks her haunch, assuming a relaxed stance. Her ripped jeans, showing a significant portion of slim thighs, hugs even more tightly her hips. Raven’s eyes narrows for a moment when she becomes aware that the unknown girl seems familiar; In the way a small grin lifts one corner of her lips. In the way her sharp eyes stare at her with a smug confidence. In the way her pronounced cheekbones and jaw cuts the dusky skin.

She looks older than Raven, maybe in her late twenties, with a slim figure and a mane of dark blonde locks draped over one shoulder. One hand holds some crumpled papers, one of them resembles a map of the campus. Her nails are neat and perfectly glossed by a layer of transparent polish, noticed by Raven because they glimmer in a flash under the warm light of the hallway. The other hand is clasped around the grip of a large, square, olive drab bag. Raven catches sight of the ending motif of a detailed, elaborate tattoo, on the back of her hand. It evidently runs up along her arm, covered by the sleeve of a long felt  coat.   

“I hope so, I was looking for Lexa’s room… maybe you know which one is hers?”

A bell finally rings in Raven’s mind, and she opens her mouth when she realizes where she has already heard that accent and, above all, why that girl looks so familiar. She nods more at herself than at the stranger and snaps her fingers, pointing them at the girl.

“You must be her sister”

“Yea…” Anya slowly bats her eyelids and unceremoniously drops the heavy baggage on the hallway’s floor, realizing that she won’t obtain a straight answer from the brunette “I told her I would arrive next week, but I wanted to give her a surprise, so she doesn’t know I’m here” She folds the papers in her hands with inattentive movements of her fingers, keeping her eyes fixated on Raven’s and she puts the small packet of sheets she just created into the pocket of her coat.

Raven can’t hold back a smirk. She registers the same intonation of voice that Lexa has, the same characteristic ‘r’ and the way she drawls a little at the ‘s’.

“You’re standing if front of her room.” Raven gestures towards the door behind Anya’s back “Although she’s not here now, I saw her this morning while she was going to class, but I don’t really know where she could be at this moment.” She answers, hunching her shoulders apologetically.

Anya rolls her eyes, a clearly annoyed expression on her face “Che palle” she snorts to the ceiling. / _Fuck (or that sucks)/_

She sighs before bringing back her eyes to Raven “Thank you anyway, sorry if I interrupted your…” she spins her hand in a relaxed rotation of her wrist while she pretends to find the right word “ _Debate_ ” She concludes with candid voice. A lopsided smirk betrays her.

Raven clenches her jaw for just a moment, she steps aside so she can retrieve the key without turning her back to the girl “Don’t worry, _Anya_. And you don’t have to thank me, I always help lost foreigners” She retorts, playing with the key which is now between her fingers. She underlines Anya’s name, to let her know that she knows who she is.

“Well, _Raven_ ” The older girl mimics her tone, raising her chin in disdain, mocking her without missing a beat “Seems like you’re the one who needs help now”

She circumvents her bag with a fluent, dainty step and comes closer to the brunette who looks at her with a raised eyebrow. Anya grabs the key, enveloping Raven’s slightly battered fingers with her own and preventing her from letting it go.

“You have to be gentle” She says, in a mellifluous voice, steering Raven’s hand towards the keyhole “As much in the _thrust_ ” Anya slides the key in the lock without effort. Raven’s shoulder, following the motion, ends pressed against the girl’s chest; Anya is so skinny that she can feel the outline of her ribs. “As in the _rotation”._ She concludes the sentence talking near Raven’s ear, in a low accented breath that crashes against the brunette’s skin. Their hands rotate together and in a swift, slow movement the door unlocks with a clack; it pops in the indecent note of defeat against Raven’s offended tympanum.

Raven gulps the air stuck in her throat, she opens and closes her mouth once while her mind tries to find something to say to keep up the banter. Anya has already moved away from her, taking a couple of steps backward, before the brunette has the chance to voice a coherent sentence.

“Anya?!”

Raven is caught off guard again, and she asks herself if for the day she has received enough unexpected visits. When she turns toward the end of the hallway she finds Lexa looking at her sister with parted lips and an overjoyed, yet shocked, expression. She sees Anya smile fondly with the corner of her eye before the two sisters move one toward the other.

They hug midway, crashing together, hands grasping the thick fabric of their clothes.

“Che cosa ci fai qui… dovevi arrivare la settimana prossima!”  / _What are you doing here? You should have arrived next week!/_

“Oh, sì, anche per me è bello vederti sorella” / _Oh, yea, it’s nice to se you too sis_ /

Anya mocks her with an offended voice. They part and Lexa shakes her head while they both can’t stop grinning. The brunette’s hands keep stroking Anya’s arms which rest on Lexa’s sides.

“Oddio cioè… è bellissimo vederti ma non me l’aspettavo!”  / _Oh God, well (or I mean)… it’s so nice to see you but I wasn’t expecting this_ /

They hug again, shifting their weight from one feet to the other in an affectionate, slow movement. Raven is still in front of the door of her room, watching the two girls  hugging and speaking in Italian so fast that she barely hears the few words she know.

“Volevo farti una sorpresa”  / _I wanted to surprise you/_

“Ci sei riuscita, cazzo!” / _You fucking did!/_

Lexa kisses her sister on one cheek, lingering with her lips on her skin in her tender greeting. When they part she finally realizes that Raven is staring at them and she smiles at the brunette.

“Oh Raven, this is my sister, Anya” She says, her voice still colored by excitement, and she waves her hand toward Anya.

The older girl pivots toward Raven and she hardly smirks “We’ve already made introductions” She scoffs preventing Lexa from talking again. Anya’s hands move aside the hems of her navy blue coat and find rest in her jeans’s pockets, above her hips, and she regains her stance characterized by a cocked hip.

“Yea” Raven reiterates, raising her chin and hiding the key of her door in the back pocket of her grey jeans.  Lexa looks alternatively at her sister and Raven, unaware of the playful tension between the two girls. She frowns for a moment then she briefly shakes her head, choosing not to investigate, and her smile is back on her lips “Oh, ok.”

She focuses her attention on Anya “Portiamo le tue cose in camera, così poi ti faccio fare un giro” / _Let’s bring your things in my room, so I can show you around then_ /

“Sì sì. Ma dov’è la biondina?” / _Yes, yes. But where’s blondie?/_

Lexa chuckles briefly while they close the distance from Anya’s bag “E’ a lezione, dopo vi presento, tranquilla”     / _She’s in class, I’ll introduce you later, don’t worry_ /

Raven resumes her research of details the two girls share. They’re the same height, but Anya is rather more slim than Lexa, she lacks the slender muscles that her sister has thanks to her workouts. Apparently Anya is not into sports, Raven considers, but she surely is into expensive clothes, more than Lexa, judging by the type of outfit she has chosen for a fly across the Ocean.

They have the exact same posture, the same attitude. They openly gesticulate with identical graceful movements of their hands while they speak about something that make them laugh again. Raven observes Lexa while the girl lifts her sister’s bag, the other hand rummaging in her pockets in search of the key. When she finds it she turns her head and smiles at Raven, a wave of her hand toward the brunette in a goodbye.

“See you later Rae. If you see Clarke please tell her to text me”

“Sure, see you later Lexa… Anya, it was a pleasure to meet you” She lets a condescending gaze wander over Anya’s figure. The older girl doesn’t answer, simply raising one hand in mid air. She waves her fingers as a goodbye, her face stoic in her lack of interest.

Raven turns her back to Anya and Lexa and she disappears behind the door of her room, closing the wooden barrier behind her. She stops and, retrieving the key from her pocket, she leans her backside against the door. She intently looks at the key, bringing it closer to her face, as if she wants to analyze it. She still can’t accept that the piece of crap worked only when Anya helped her, like she was some sort of idiot.

Not that it’s important, what Lexa’s sister would or wouldn’t think of her. It’s just some raw matter of pride, like always.

It’s always a matter of pride for Raven.

Always corroded by the sour, toxic need to demonstrate she’s not less than anyone, to prove that also women can be engineers, to show that not only she can face every challenge, but she will surely win every one of them. And now she feels like a fool for failing such a basic task.

_Open a door._

She needed help to open a door. And she has also allowed Anya to play with her, making her unable to answer her banter with something smart. And moreover what was that? Some kind of flirting?

“Well sorry Anya but we like guys over here” She says to herself, shaking her head and tossing the key over the desk, where it lands with a soundly ting.

She huffs one last time, going in the bathroom, settling that she needs a shower to wash away her irritation, her growing anger and that insufferable Italian smirk from her mind.

  


“Lexa, sto caffè fa schifo”  / _Lexa, this coffee sucks_ /

Lexa clicks her tongue, green eyes rolling toward the ceiling, at her sister comment. She finishes her own coffee in one sip and turns to place the coffee cup in the steel sink she has been leaning against till that moment “Perchè non l’hai fatto tu allora?”     / _Why didn’t you make it, then?/_

Her sisters theatrically sighs “Vuoi far cucinare un ospite? Dove sono le tue buone maniere?”  / _Do you want a guest to cook? Where are your good manners?/_

Lexa snorts at her sister’s  mocking, spinning on her feet to glare at Anya with an unimpressed look, a single brow raised. Her back finds again the edge of the polished kitchen counter and she crosses her arms over her chest. Anya is looking at her with her usual smirk, a perfect mixture of teasing and fondness, the brunette just grunts her irritation one more time.

“Non ti risponderò a tono”   / _I won’t answer in kind_ /

“Perché sei noiosa” / _Because you’re boring_ /

“Esatto” / _Exactly_ /

Anya is probably the person she loves the most in the entire World, but sometimes her sister is just too exhausting. She’s a brilliant girl with a vivid mind and an endless sense of humor that sometimes brings Lexa on the edge of her easily inflamed nerves.

Lexa takes her buzzing phone out of her pocket, ignoring completely her sister’s laugh. A message from Clarke informs her that the blonde is finally free and she answers briefly, asking Clarke to meet them in the common room. Lexa raises her eyes on her sister, putting back her phone in her pocket and Anya smirks, hopping off the stool she is sitting on.

“Ho detto a Clarke di incontrarci nella stanza comune” / _I told Clarke to meet us in the common room_ /

“Andiamo allora” / _Let’s go then_ /

Anya approves with a small nod, adjusting the hem of her blouse, tucked in a pair of black pants. Lexa still doesn’t understand how her sister isn’t  utterly tired after the flight, but apparently a shower and a change of clothes has been enough for Anya to be ready to explore the campus.

Although the older girl is used to living in a metropolis like Milan she has been quite surprised by the size of the campus, pointing out how much American college life is different from Italian.

They have visited the main areas and walked in the park, Anya has even insisted on eating in the cafeteria because she couldn’t “Lose an occasion to enjoy new experiences”. What is enjoyable in a badly cooked lunch, Lexa doesn’t know.

They have talked about how Lexa was doing even though Anya already knows everything about her sister thanks to their Skype calls. But Lexa has confessed that finally talking in Italian to someone “real” and not hidden behind a monitor was absolutely the thing she had been missing the most, so Anya has heard again anything Lexa wanted to tell her without complaining.

When they finally get to the wide common room Lexa scans the place in search of Clarke. Some students are sitting on the couches, talking and laughing, and Lexa waves her hand at a dark haired guy, who attends some classes with her, to greet him.

She finally spots Clarke, standing in front of another green sofa, on the other side of the room. The blonde smiles at her before glaring a nervous gaze at Anya, who glances at her sister with an amused smile, lifting one corner of her lips.

“Il catartico incontro con la cognata” She mocks Lexa who simply smacks her lips, staring at her in disdain for a moment, not deeming her worthy of even an answer.   / _The cathartic encounter with the sister-in-law_ /

They close the distance in a few steps and Clarke’s faltering smile widens when she verifies what she has already noticed through the web cam; Lexa and Anya are disturbingly similar. Except for some facial lineaments, which are rather different, Clarke has the impression she’s looking at the same person reflected in a mirror.

She is already extending her hand toward Anya when the two sisters finally stop in front of her, she tries to hold her hand from shaking, but she’s sure that the older girl can read her nervousness depicted in her azure eyes. The blonde is still smiling when Anya takes her hand and shakes it in a gently firm grip.

“It’s really great to meet you Anya” Clarke’s voice is firm, but she can’t deny to herself that she’s over stressing this meeting. She wants to make a good impression, knowing how much Lexa loves her sister and that Anya warmly reciprocates.  

“I’m really happy to meet you too, Clarke” Anya’s voice is kind and without the barrier of the computer altering it Clarke can really appreciate how much is similar to Lexa’s

Anya finally reciprocates Clarke’s grin with a honest, warm one and Lexa, standing beside her, has the neat feeling that her sister hadn’t smiled until that very moment just to enjoy the amusing chance to put Clarke in a difficult position. She rolls her eyes because that’s a typical Anya behavior, but she lets the two girls interact without interruptions, happy that her sister is finally acting like a normal person.

Anya slightly takes Clarke by surprise when she bends forward to kiss both her cheeks, her hands landing on the blonde’s shoulders with a light squeeze. Her eyes flutter in surprise while Anya presses her cheek against hers, more than actual kissing, and she recalls the Italian use of kisses as a friendly greeting. Before she has the chance to even pretend to reciprocate, Anya has already taken a step backwards. Clarke feels relief when she sees that her expression is still kind and her sharp eyes are warm, but she glances however at Lexa with an alarmed look. The brunette playfully winks at her with her lopsided grin bending her lips and Clarke relaxes her stiff shoulders a bit.

“Let’s sit” Lexa says after a moment, motioning to the couch. Clarke sits back in the spot she has left few minutes earlier and Lexa sits at her side while Anya prefer to settle in the wide armchair beside the couch, moving it to face the couple. She theatrically sighs and with a wide gesture she rests her arms on the armrests, relaxing her back against the seatback and drumming her fingers on the leather surface. Lexa places her hand on Clarke’s thigh in an encouraging gesture and the blonde shoots her a brief smile.

“Well well, Clarke. Let’s begin your interrogation” Anya says, her tone a dangerous compromise between joke and seriousness. Clarke chuckles, bringing her attention back on Anya.

Lexa just sighs, seeing a haunting sparkle in Anya’s eyes she knows perfectly.

  


“Do you think I made a bad first impression?”

Lexa raises her eyes from the bubbling pan on the stove, not halting the stirring movement of the wooden spoon held between her fingers. Anya has left them some time earlier to take some rest and set her things in Lexa’s room and Lexa and Clarke has decided to cook something after enjoying their free time together.

The brunette turns her head toward Clarke, who is setting a corner of the table for dinner, not daring to look at her, and she frowns, slightly astonished by the question.

“Why do you ask? You think you did?”

Clarke watches intently the glass in her hand, turning it between her fingers as if she doesn’t know where to put it on the tablecloth. When she finally places it on the table she gazes at Lexa, wrinkling her nose in an uncertain grimace “I don’t know… She was so serious”.

Clarke looks genuinely worried, but Lexa just chuckles and, shaking her head, she averts her eyes back to the pan, checking the sauce she is cooking “Clarke it’s Anya, she lives to make people feel uncomfortable, but I’d say she really likes you. If you don’t know her it’s rather difficult to say if she can’t stand someone, because she’s rather subtle with her feelings, but I assure you that I would have noticed if that was the case… Also she didn’t stop talking with you for _one second_ and believe me that’s really rare.”

Lexa smiles when a pair of arms envelop her waist and she exaggerates a snort from pain when Clarke tightens the hug. The blonde tilts her head to drop a kiss between Lexa’s shoulder blades, covered by a wool jumper which tickles her lips and the tip of her nose.

“Thank you” She mutters, her voice, grateful for her words, muffled by the thick white fabric. The brunette covers her arms with one of her palms, huffing a brief laugh. It’s so unbearably sweet that Clarke is so worried about her sister’s opinion that she lightly shakes her head, feeling her heart skipping a beat at the realization that she can actually call a girl like that hers.

“I did nothing Clarke, she simply liked you because sometimes you manage to not be completely intolerable” She jokes and she chuckles, tilting her head to one side to shoo Clarke’s mouth away, when the girl nips her neck for revenge.

“You jerk… I’ll remember this the next time you’ll _beg_ me” Clarke can’t help a giggle to color her words and she feels Lexa laugh again. The brunette tries to sound deadly serious when she answers with the awful imitation of a resentful tone.

“It happened literally one time”

“Four.” Clarke retorts at once, before kissing the brunette’s nape and Lexa opens her mouth, deeply inhaling, totally offended by the blonde’s accusation.

“That’s not true! How you da-”

“Oh I’m with Clarke in this one”. They both turn their head at once, looking toward the door, startled by the unexpected interruption. Anya is looking at them, trying to keep an emotionless expression painted on her face while a smirk desperately tries to crack open her lips . Clarke releases Lexa’s waist and takes a step back, running her fingers through her locks just to do something with her hand. Both girls are blinking in complete embarrassment and Lexa has stopped her stirring while she looks at her sister, hoping she will just stop mocking her. The blonde feels her cheeks burning at the temperature of a nuclear fission.

“You were insufferable even as a child, always complaining if anyone dared not to do what you were asking” Anya concludes while her fingers start opening the buttons of her Chanel style jacket.

Lexa opens her mouth, then she closes it, her brain perfectly knows that she should just shut up but her tongue moves of her own volition.

“Non… that’s not true”

“Yes L” Anya answers back at once. She looks at Clarke who is looking at her with an expression halfway between amusement and embarrassment. The older girl gives up her attempts to stay serious and she smirks openly “Don’t you remember? Dad nicknamed you _La comandante_ , the commander, because you wouldn’t stop giving orders to everyone”.

“Anya!”

Lexa can’t believe her ears and when Clarke burst out laughing at her side and she alternatively looks at her and her sister, blinking her eyes in complete disbelief, hoping that Satan himself will drag her to hell, the perspective of facing Charon way less worrying than her actual situation

“Non posso crederci che l’hai detto” She eventually grunts at Anya who is chuckling, hands in the back pockets of her dark jeans, one hip tilted to one side. / _I can’t believe you said that_ /

Anya shrugs and looking at Clarke, who is still laughing, she frowns, snapping her tongue.

“Do you like the nickname Clarke?”

“Yes, oh gosh” She answers, covering her mouth with an hand, trying to placate her laugh.

“Oh…” Anya scoffs with a worried expression and Lexa glares at her a warning stare, knowing she is about to say something else. Her sister totally ignores the brunette and she concludes her attack with a candid voice. “Don’t tell me you’ll use that in bed now, please”.

Clarke literally chokes on air and her laugh turns in a cough, muffled in her hand, her eyes wide.

Lexa snorts out of frustration, turning her head to look at her suffocating girlfriend. When the blonde manages to breathe again, even if her eyes remains fixated on the floor, Lexa brings back her eyes to Anya. Her expression is as pitiful as the one of a beaten dog and her voice almost a grave snarl.

“Quand’è che riparti, Anya?”   / _When are you leaving, Anya?/_

Her sister just laughs.

  
  
  
  
  



	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Costia is a smol confused gay.  
> Ranya will rise  
> Clexa is clexa af.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG guys 700 kudos? I don't even know what to say!  
> Thank you so much, it's so important for me reading all your comments and feedbacks, so all my love to you all!
> 
> A kiss to [bringthebiggergun](http://bringthebiggergun.tumblr.com/) who helped me with spanish translations!

### Chapter 10

 

 

The tickling heat of his breath lingers on her neck for longer than she would have liked.

She’s not used to that sensation anymore, to the feeling of being hugged by muscular arms, pressed against a flat chest. She’s not used to the Spanish words murmured in a baritone, gruff inflection.  The once familiar sensation of his stubble tickling her cheek is almost unpleasant now, and Costia can’t prevent a grimace of discomfort from clouding her face for a moment.

They loosen the hug and she looks at Gabriel, peeking at his short, ink-black hair and his pointed facial features, so well-acquainted and so anonymous at the same time. She tries to recall the last time they saw each other, she tries to recall her feelings, her gestures. But the truth is that she doesn’t even remember, the memory of their last wet kiss pops into her mind, blurred not by tears, but by images of green eyes and a refined scent.

It’s still scary, thinking about Lexa in that way. Thinking about her even when they’re not together, with a malicious snake squeezing her stomach in a nauseous grip that leaves her breathless the moment she pictures Lexa with Clarke. Kissing and laughing, with their bodies molten together in a comfortable intimacy, like she saw them do too many times, walking in the hallways or half hidden behind a scrawny tree, barred by the biting Autumn cold.

It’s overly terrifying when she strives to calm the furious beat of her heart whenever Lexa gets too close to hug her, or talks to her, or smiles her indecent grin sprinkled with white teeth.

Costia too often finds herself rolling around in her bed, unsuccessfully trying to fall asleep, alternatively facing the wall or the barely visible shape of her roommate, while she tries to disentangle the abstruse knot of her feelings. Is this infatuation, fascination, or just madness? It’s confusion, surely, dictated by the distance from the person she used to love.

 _She used to_.

That is the real fiendish, bitter truth, the crux of the problem. Two words that summarize and symbolize her whole viscous turmoil.

She doesn’t know what she exactly feels for Lexa, but she’s utterly certain that she doesn’t love Gabriel anymore. She’s almost bothered that her boyfriend has come to visit her after months of detachment and Costia asks herself how the oblivious guy cannot see this sentiment reflected in her forced smile, when she can taste the sour flavor of disappointment on her own tongue. It envelops her taste buds like petroleum, gliding all over her mouth, burning like a poison and leaving behind itself a tart ghost.

“Estoy muy feliz de verte, cariño” He mutters in his sweet, grave voice and Costia can’t help but compare it to Lexa’s shade when she speaks in Italian. They’ve just exchanged some idioms and sentences in their own languages to laugh about similarities and differences, but the melodic cadence of Lexa’s undertone is impressed in the back of Costia’s brain.                        / _I’m so happy to see you, babe_./

“Si... yo también” she mutters again, her voice barely audible in the chaotic mess of the train station where she had been waiting for Gabriel. She had refused his request to pick him up at the airport, validating her excuses by saying that she was busy with lessons, and they had reached an agreement, setting TonDC’s station as their meeting point.  / _Yeah… I’m happy too,_ /

Costia closes her eyes when a pair of thin lips cover her own and she answers the kiss out of habit, one of her hands covering Gabriel’s cheek. She smells the pungent scent of his cologne and her nose wrinkles at the unexpected new fragrance, which Gabriel probably bought to impress her.

“Cómo estuvo el vuelo?”        / _How was the flight?_ /

“No estuvo mal, vi muchas películas por que no podía dormir” A yawn interrupts Gabriel’s report and Costia smiles at the timing of his gesture.       / _It was ok, I watched a lot of movies because I couldn’t sleep_ /

“Venga, iremos a Polis para que descanses un poco, vale?”          / _Let’s go to Polis, so you can rest a bit_ /

Gabriel smiles with a tender sparkle in his eyes “Pero es que en realidad yo no quiero dormir”           / _But I don’t really want to sleep_ /

Costia tries to sincerely grin, briefly shaking her head. Gabriel is a good guy, a nice, sweet, tender person that doesn’t deserve to be discarded for a stupid daydream that will never happen.

Lexa has Clarke and she has Gabriel. This is how thing are and how they should be.

“Ya lo veremos,” she answers, taking him by his hand and interlacing their fingers while they start walking toward another platform to take the train that heads to Polis. His fingers are long and knobby, his fingertips rough while he gently rubs the back of Costia’s hand.             / _We will see about that_ /

The girl smiles at him, brushing behind her ear a strand of velvety, dark-blonde hair and trying to push away from her head burning, green irises.  

 

 

 

Lexa’s eyes flutter for a long moment. The girl tries to breathe deeply to prevent the rampaging, ferocious wolf howling in her chest from jumping out and mauling the Hispanic company to her side.

She slowly rotates her head and her glare falls for a second on the pen between Costia’s fingers, which the girl has been furiously clicking for minutes. Or _ages_ , as the rabid animal behind Lexa’s pupils suggests.

The brunette raises her stare to look at Costia, but the girl shows no sign of being aware that Lexa is already picturing how to validate her murder as self defense.

“Costia,” Lexa mutters between her gritted teeth and Costia finally turns her head to look at her, confused. Her thumb keeps clicking the ball of her pen “Can you _stop?_ ” Lexa nods her chin towards Costia’s unstoppable hand. “It’s driving me insane.”

Costia abruptly halts her movement, her lips parting in realization and she offers Lexa a weak smile “Sorry… I was lost in my thoughts,” she whispers, her eyes checking in a rapid glare if the librarian has heard them talking, but the young woman is absently looking at her pc monitor. Their favorite small library is way more populated than usual, colorful groups of students fill the tempered glass tables, studying in silence or exchanging brief opinions in almost soundless whispers. There’s a vibrant atmosphere of disquietude in the squared room, elicited by the rapid approach of finals. It bounces from one student to another, reflected by fazed eyes focused on open textbooks and trembling fingers skimming on keyboards.

“I noticed, is everything ok?”

Costia’s eyes linger for a long moment on Lexa’s and green irises worriedly reflect in a opaque dust storm. “It’s just that Gabriel, my boyfriend arrived this morning.”

“Oh, and where is he?”

A wave of her hand, pointing at nothing. “He’s sleeping in my room, I had to study and he was tired after the flight.”

“And aren’t you happy that he’s here..?” Lexa frowns, confused.

“I thought I was… But when I saw him…” Costia sighs, her hand runs through straight locks, brushing them to one side. “I felt nothing Lex, like he was just a stranger. I..I think I’m not in love with him anymore.”

“Oh,” Lexa says with a nod, chewing on her lower lip while she ponders an answer. Costia’s eyes fall on her plump mouth before fluttering again toward Lexa’s pensive gaze. “I know that it’s a bad situation, given the fact that he came here from Spain, but… You should probably tell him as soon as possible..”.

Costia shakes her head lightly, “I don’t really know what to do, I’m so confused.”

“When have your feelings changed?”

The Spanish girl blinks several times, her fingers playing with the pen still in her hands. She feels her cheekbones reaching a dangerous temperature and she averts her eyes, afraid of what Lexa’s bright irises could do to her already flustered face. “I don’t know, they just changed, you know?”

“I.. Yes, I guess.”

"I'll try to just stay with him and manage to understand exactly what my feelings are towards him." Costia continues her confession, focusing her attention back on Lexa. The brunette nods her approval, but a brief vibration coming from her pocket distracts her from formulating a proper answer.

"Sorry," she mouths and Costia waves her hand, telling her there’s no problem.

"Don't worry, there's not much else to say anyway."

Lexa gives her a small smile of sympathy while she recovers her phone from its trap in her light jeans.

A message from Clarke tells her that the blonde is done with her lessons and apparently her room is free from Raven's presence for the rest of the afternoon. She quickly types an answer, saying that she's quite busy studying at the moment and she lays her phone on the table when an answer fails to arrive in the following seconds.

Lexa faces Costia again. The girl seems focused on her textbook, but Lexa notices that her distress is not decreased and her friend is still compulsively chewing on her lower lip while she massages her temple with her thumb.

"Costia, I know that you feel bad, but it happens with feelings. They vanish sometimes.. It's not your fault, just be honest with him and you'll do nothing wrong," she murmurs, ignoring the librarian who has just hissed a reprimand to the whispering guy at the table beside theirs. Grey warm eyes flutter towards Lexa and Costia briefly smiles, grateful.

"Thank you, Lex." She says with a slight quiver in her tone and her hand grips Lexa's forearm in a gentle stroke, squeezing it briefly. A lopsided gentle grin welcomes her gesture and Lexa shrugs, shaking her head. "I really did nothing, don't thank me".

Another vibration from her phone draws Lexa's attention away from Costia’s bright eyes and the girl releases the brunette's arm to let her check her phone.

 

**Clarke: What a shame**

**Clarke: *picture***

 

A strangled noise leaves the brunette’s throat while Lexa loses the hold on her phone. She desperately tries to keep it between her fingers, but it lands with a dull thud on the open textbook, on the table, in front of her. Lexa glances swiftly around her with the hammering sound of her heart beating in her throat. She thanks God when she notices that no one, except Costia, is looking at her.

The honey-haired girl is staring at her with a half smirk and a raised eyebrow, and Lexa quickly takes her phone back in her hands to prevent Costia from seeing the picture. She shakes her head, not giving further explanations, simply because her brain is completely fried and totally unable to compile something that could sound even slightly reasonable. Costia shrugs, averting her eyes after a moment.

Lexa fixes her tortoise round glasses on the bridge of her nose and turns the phone in her hand, looking again at the picture Clarke sent her, deeply inhaling in order to swallow the gulp trapped in her throat. She shouldn’t be affected so much by a picture, considering their actual level of intimacy, but it was so unexpected that it took her totally unprepared.

She looks at Clarke, immortalized in her shamelessly clean beauty while she rests her stomach on the bed, completely naked. She barely sees the shape of her backside, hidden almost completely by a creamy shoulder and green eyes linger on the dark channel between her round, soft breasts which are deplorably outside the lens’s range. One of her legs is bent and her arched foot makes Lexa swallow hard again. The memory of how Clarke tends to curl her toes when she’s about to reach her apex shocks her brain in a jolt of sudden lust.

She locks her phone without even answering the blonde and puts it back in her backpack, recovering it from the floor beside her chair. She clears her voice while she starts collecting her belongings scattered on the glass surface.

“I.. really have to go. Sorry.” Lexa excuses herself without even looking at Costia, sure that her flushed face and her darkened eyes would betray her in a second.

“Oh… ok. Is everything alright?”

“Cazzo se lo è,” Lexa answers without thinking, huskily growling under her breath. She stops for just a second when she realizes she had spoken in Italian, her backpack already closed and on the table. “I mean, yes, Clarke just needs some help for… a thing.” She rambles, waving one hand to seem casual while she stands.   / _It fucking is_ /

“Alright.” Costia narrows her eyes a bit, following Lexa’s movements. The brunette quickly kisses her cheek, mumbling a goodbye that Costia barely has  time to answer before Lexa starts walking away, approaching the main door of the library in swift long steps. She releases a deep sigh when Lexa disappears behind the wooden barrier, which closes behind her with a soundless thud.

She wonders if she would have such enthusiasm in helping Gabriel with _a thing_ and she knows that the answer is definitely no.

What empties her lungs, however, is the realization that if she were to subtract Gabriel and add Lexa to the equation, the results would be quite the contrary.

 

Lexa is almost breathless when she finally stops in front of Clarke’s room. She had covered the significant distance between the library and their dormitory in a remarkably good time, even bumping into a couple of students in her haste.

She unclasps the first button of her white shirt, which was peeking out from the round collar of the dark wool jumper, and knocks on the door twice. When she receives no answer she frowns and tries to open the door, pushing on the handle. The door glides open without any restraint and Lexa takes a tentative step, trespassing the threshold while she searches for any sign of Clarke’s presence with a rapid glare.

“Clarke?”

She tries to call her name, and as an answer she hears the soft sound of pouring water coming from the bathroom. She steps into the room, closing the door behind her and frowns, not sure why Clarke would be in the shower after the clear invitation she made. Maybe she didn’t expect Lexa to run to her room like she did. The brunette chuckles at her own rush in answering the blonde’s enticement.

She takes a few steps towards Clarke’s bed and, dropping her backpack on the floor, she sits on the edge, hands clasped in her lap. She takes off her boots as well and lets her eyes wander around the room, looking for something that could occupy her mind while she waits. Her gaze is captured by a grammar book on Clarke’s desk.

She stands and, approaching the wooden surface, she looks at the book, tilting her head to one side and frowning. A smile bends the corner of her lips when she realizes what Clarke has been studying. She opens the book and leafs through the pages, her eyes catching what the blonde has highlighted or circled with a pencil.

The sound of the bathroom door being opened makes Lexa avert her eyes and she looks astounded at Clarke when the blonde appears on the doorstep and gives a start, one of her hands clasping against her chest. She’s covered only by a white towel, wrapped tightly around her, and her skin is still dampened by small drops of water, scattered over her chest. Some of them fall from her wet hair, running down her skin and dying on the edge of the towel.

“Lexa… fuck, you scared me.” She says, her blue eyes widen a little when she notices what Lexa is holding and she feels an instant blush tingeing her cheekbones. Lexa’s eyes flutter, the girl unable to avert her eyes from Clarke’s figure, and her brain refusing not only to form a consistent thought, but also to translate it into English. She grips the book tighter in her hand and after a few moments of complete silence she manages to croak something out.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Clarke answers slightly amused. She looks back at the textbook in Lexa’s hands, a small, uncertain smile bending her lips. “I thought you were busy so I took a shower,” she adds, trying to establish some sort of conversation. Lexa nods.

“I figured it out.” She blinks again while she closes the book and puts it back on the desk, and when she looks back at Clarke her lopsided grin is already cracking her lips open.

“You’re… are you trying to learn Italian?” She asks and her voice sounds more hoarse and lower than she intended. Clarke nods a bit sheepishly as she brushes a strand of damp hair behind her ear.

“Are you angry?”

The blonde barely has the time to complete the question before Lexa literally collides with her. Soft lips devour the last letter that jumps off her tongue and she welcomes the kiss with a sound of surprise, her eyes blinking rapidly before closing shut. Lexa’s hands cradle her face, sinking in wet blonde locks and Clarke softly sighs when slender fingers press against the back of her neck.

“Angry?” Lexa breathes when they part. “Are you serious?”

Clarke’s eyes space between two storming jade irises and she sheepishly smiles again. “I don’t know, maybe?”

“You’re…” A grunt, another kiss that ends too soon. “I love you.” Lexa’s voice softens, but doesn’t help the shiver that runs along Clarke’s spine. Blue eyes gleam at the still new words and Clarke grips Lexa’s forearms, caressing her from over her jumper with circular movements of her thumbs.

“Ti amo anche io,” the blonde answers, squinting one eye in an effort to pronouncing every word correctly. Her accent is so strong, and adorable, and sweet, and _American_ that Lexa, for the briefest moment, thinks she won’t be able to survive.

Clarke tried to learn Italian, she’s trying to learn Italian. For her.

Lexa opens her mouth again, but she doesn’t know how to voice the bubbling beat of her heart. She grins so widely that her cheeks hurt under the compression of thin muscles and her eyes darken while they jump around the blonde’s lineaments, trying to drink the flavor of something familiar all at once.

Clarke shivers in her arms and she comes back to reality, realizing that the blonde is wet and almost naked.

“Are you cold?” Her voice huskily scratches Clarke’s ears and the blonde answers in a pant.

“A bit.”

A grin bends one corner of Lexa’s lips and Clarke shudders again when she feels warm breath crashing on the swollen skin of her lips. Two fingers run down the exquisite hollow between Clarke’s breasts; the towel pools at her feet in a hushed swoosh.

“Maybe I can help.”

 

Slender fingers fix the hem of the blue cashmere scarf right under her pointed chin, her breath coming out in a puff of steam that briefly twirls around itself before disappearing in the cold air of the afternoon. Hiding her hand in the pocket of her long coat, Anya regrets the way she has underestimated TonDC’s cold. Lexa had warned her about the climate, explaining how it was way harsher than in Italy, but the older girl had thought that being used to Milan’s winters would have been enough as a term of paragon and had dismissed her sister with an annoyed huff.

She was clearly wrong, she admits to herself, while she stares with envy at people traveling in the warmth of cars, running beside the wide sidewalk. A hot sigh chills on her lips and she takes the lower, chapped one between her teeth, trying to soothe some of the windburn by wetting it with her tongue.

She stops for a moment in front of the wide window of a coffee shop, trying to get a glimpse of exactly how reddened the sore skin on her cheekbones is and she huffs, comforted by the evidence that her foundation masks it completely. She halts with her foot still mid hair just as she’s about to turn away. She notices a familiar figure bent over a computer, sitting at one of the round tables of the café. She considers her options for a moment, but after glancing quickly around and shivering once more, she realizes she is more than done with her exploration of the town.

She enters the shop and her nose is instantly filled with the gratifying, earthy aroma of minced coffee and the fragrant aftertaste of cinnamon. Anya gives a small smile of courtesy to the guy behind the counter, then approaches the small table in a few short steps. The girl who occupies it is so focused on her work that she doesn’t even notice Anya standing beside her seat and, after a sip from her coffee cup, she keeps writing something, mouthing words while her fingers tap on the keyboard.

“Don’t tell me, you’re a fanfiction writer?”

Raven turns her head at once, her hands tensing in midair as she looks at Anya with widened eyes and an expression of stupor, mixed with surprise, on her face. The older girl startled her with her sudden mocking and the brunette is motionless for a few seconds, while her heartbeat slows down to an unalarmed pace.

“Could you _stop_ giving me heart attacks?” She eventually snorts, closing her laptop in a swift gesture. Anya smirks and she pulls off her coat and scarf, resting them on one of the free chairs, before sitting in the one positioned in front of Raven.

“You didn’t answer,” Anya scoffs, carefully rolling the sleeves of her knit polo-neck sweatshirt, her body rapidly overheating in the pleasant warmth of the café.

“I didn’t invite you to sit either, but looks like you don’t care about that.” A raised eyebrow accompanies Raven’s words, but her eyes fall on Anya’s forearms when the girl rests them against the surface of the light wooden table, her fingers interlaced. She can finally see the whole design of the tattoo she had glimpsed on Anya’s hand at their first encounter. She forces her eyes to move back to Anya’s when the girl releases a small laugh at her statement, but she would like to attentively observe the other charming tattoos engraved on her dusky skin.

“I was freezing and rather bored.”

Raven takes another sip of her coffee, before answering. “So you decided to come and bother me?”

“Exactly.” Anya shrugs and Raven rolls her eyes, taking another sip of her black coffee, sucking in her lower lip to collect an escaped droplet.

“So, are you a fanfiction writer or not?”

“Why the hell would I be a fanfiction writer?” Raven indignantly asks.

Anya points at her laptop with an elegant movement of her wrist. “You tell me, you were rather focused on that.”

“It’s an essay, I have to finish it for Friday, but I wasn’t feeling like studying in the campus and needed a… change of scenery.”

Anya raises one eyebrow at Raven’s choice of words and the brunette snorts, getting the allusion. “I’m not a fucking fanfiction writer!” She grunts.

“Alright, don’t get mad,” Anya laughs and when she notices Raven ogling again at her tattoos she shoots her a Wood’s grin, one that Raven is starting to hate. “If you like my tattoos, I’ll accept compliments.”

Raven’s dark irises look again at their reflection in Anya’s chocolate ones and she ponders for a moment her answer. She surrenders after mere seconds of inner fighting between pride and curiosity.

“I like that one,” she says, pointing at one elaborate tree painted in vivid colors on Anya’s inner forearm. The older girl turns her arm, showing the whole figure drawn with the watercolor technique on her skin. Stains of colors blend in an intricate, byzantine Mandala tree, twisting and interlocking, outlining the roots and the branches of the symbol of renovating life.

“I did it in China, then I discovered that Mandalas should be only mental images and drawing them permanently means quite nothing,” Anya says with a laugh and Raven smirks.

“At least it symbolizes life and not death,” she jokes, and Anya approves with a nod and an amused expression. “But you did a tattoo in China? Weren’t you worried about… hygiene related conditions?”

“I said that I did it… It means that I did it to myself while I was in China.” Anya explains and Raven’s eyes widen at the realization.

“Oh… Right. Lexa told us you’re a tattoo artist.” She snaps her fingers and drinks more of her coffee, the cup almost empty and the liquid already lukewarm. She can’t hold back a grimace at the unpleasant flavor.

Anya notices her reaction. “Want another one? I’ll pay, so I can make it up to you for interrupting your work.”

Raven glances at the cup still in her hand and nods, laying the paper cup back on the table after a moment of indecision. “Thanks,” she answers, and Anya stands from the chair in a swift movement.

“You’re welcome,” she says as she recovers her wallet from her purse and Raven recognizes the expensive brand of the leather handbag that validates her supposition; Anya is totally not the typical tattoo artist who wears tank tops and leather boots. On the contrary, the older Woods seems to spend a considerable amount of time and money in choosing clothes.

“Don’t you want to ask me what I drink?” She comments after a moment, blinking, when she sees that Anya is already padding toward the counter. The older girl halts her steps and, looking at the brunette from over her shoulder, she recites, “Black, two sugars.”

“What the…” Raven mutters and looks at Anya’s back while the girl walks away and approaches the counter to order drinks from the barista, dressed in a black polo t-shirt with the local’s name printed on the chest. The brunette shoots a glance towards her abandoned cup of coffee and understands at once how Anya managed to know her taste; she had read her order on the cup.

Surprised by the girl’s powers of observation, Raven searches for Anya again. The blonde haired barista is totally enraptured by Anya, who is slightly bent over the counter, her hands gripping the rounded edge of the fake-marble surface. The guy nods before turning his back to Anya to start making her order, pausing to turn his head from time to time to keep talking with the girl.

Raven observes her while she runs one hand through her neat mane of dark blonde hair, draping the locks over one shoulder. Anya cocks her hip to the side, saying something that makes the barista laugh, and his voice arrives at Raven’s ears in its annoyingly coarse note. She doesn’t know why the sound is so bothering and the brunette forces her jaw to unclench and relax again.

She averts her eyes, opening her laptop to resume her essay while she waits for Anya, but she can’t prevent her eyes from jumping back and forth from the monitor to the counter of the bar. Her fingers press some letters and she angrily deletes them when she realizes she had typed purely random words on the virtual paper sheet. She decides that it’s probably better to proofread what she had already written, but she manages to focus enough to correct only a few sentences, adding some words to an unclear paragraph. Another laugh distracts her again.

She doesn’t understand why the fact that they’re both grinning, amused by something she can’t hear, bothers her. The guy is not even attractive enough to interest her, so she shouldn’t be annoyed by Anya’s flirting. Yet, she can’t help but roll her eyes when she forces herself to bring her attention back to her essay.

Anya comes back after a few minutes, two cups in her hands and a satisfied smirk on her face. She gives one of them to Raven, who thanks her, and places the other one on the table. She then sits and puts her wallet back in her purse.

“Isn’t the coffee too _American_ for you here?” The brunette once again moves her laptop away so that she can properly look at Anya. The girl is observing the elaborate coffee drink in her hands, with an overabundant mass of whipped cream on top of it, with a raised eyebrow. Anya bats her eyes and when she reopens them, she gazes at Raven with a smirk.

“I only wanted a tea, but he wanted to make me taste his ‘specialty’, so… ” She smacks her lips and Raven opens the top of her paper cup to let some of the boiling steam escape.  She blows at the black liquid for a few seconds.

“I bet he meant another specialty, you know.”

“I’m certain, but, sadly, I have standards.”

Anya is deadly serious in her answer and Raven frowns briefly when the older girl takes her discarded cup of coffee and uses the black stirrer to eliminate the whipped cream from the top of her drink. When she puts the straw back in her cup and starts stirring, she lifts her gaze and a smirk bends the corner of her lips.

“You could have asked him not to add the cream,” Raven scoffs her with a wave of her chin toward her old cup of coffee. Anya rolls her eyes.

“I did, but he insisted it wasn’t the same without it… I tend to avoid people that think they know what I like better than me.” The answer is rather emotionless and Raven observes her while she takes the first sip of her drink. “And of course, this thing is terribly sweet,” she comments with an unimpressed grimace on her face. Raven can’t help a laugh.

“I’m sure he would be happy to offer you something else.”

“Oh, he already offered me this coffee and his number, I think that two things I don’t want are more than enough in one day, don’t you?”

Raven blows on the almost boiling liquid, before taking a tentative sip. The coffee is scorching hot against the tip of her tongue and she surrenders, dropping the cup on the table to let it cool down a bit. “You seemed rather interested while you were flirting with him,” she casually comments.

A raised eyebrow. “Are you envious or jealous?”

_Both._

“Neither. Just curious I guess.”

Anya huffs a laugh. She takes another sip of her elaborate coffee before moving it away to one side of the table, unable to pretend to like it enough to drink even half of the cup. “Curious about what? That wasn’t a question, but a mere statement.” She mocks Raven, who shrugs.

“It just surprised me when you said you weren’t flirting, because it seemed like you were.”

“I didn’t said I wasn’t, I said that he doesn’t fulfill my standards, but I like playing a bit with guys that fall for just a pretty smile, so…”

Raven frowns, tilting her head a bit and Anya answers with another grin. It glows towards her deep chocolate eyes, brightening them in a roguish flash of playfulness.

“That’s quite cruel… I like it.”

They both chuckle and the brunette again tries to drink some of her coffee. She manages to take just a sip after she had blown cold air on the reflective surface of the drink, meeting Anya’s eyes again after only mere seconds.

“So, what are these impossibly high standards Miss Woods?”

“I can send you an application form to fill out if you’re interested.”

Raven shakes her head lightly before shrugging and sipping her coffee again. “Sorry, but I’m straight,” she points out rather plainly.

Anya smiles, slowly batting her eyes. Her expression totally unimpressed.

“Well, it seems we have at least one thing in common.”

 

Lexa’s laugh reverberates against her stomach and Clarke huffs in annoyance. She rolls her eyes while Lexa’s chuckle fades and she flicks her middle finger against chestnut locks. The brunette snorts a complaint, but she doesn’t move away from her comfortable position. Clarke’s breasts are definitely her new-proclaimed favorite pillow and Lexa almost purrs, comically, while she settle the back of her head exactly between Clarke soft roundness. The blonde sighs, letting Lexa do what she please, rather flattered by her girlfriend’s satisfaction. Also, even if they had dressed again after Lexa had warmed her up for a more than sufficient amount of time, having the girl pressed against her is always a delightful bliss.

“Ok, try again.”

“Not if you’re going to laugh at me,” Clarke refuses with a sigh.

“I don’t laugh at you, I laugh because you’re adorable, Clarke.”

The blonde rolls her eyes and Lexa taps her index finger under the word Clarke has been trying to say for the last five minutes, making Lexa cackle several times. Lexa had recovered the Italian grammar book from her desk, candidly saying she wanted to help Clarke learn how to pronounce the sounds correctly, but the blonde suspects that the brunette just enjoys making fun of her.

Clarke grunts a sound of annoyance and takes a breath, trying to reproduce in her mind how Lexa spelled the word

“ _Allio._ ”

Lexa suffocates a laugh, letting slip only a strangled snort that rolls against the back of her tongue.

“Aglio,” she corrects her again. “You have to push the tongue flat against the centre of the palate, like ‘y‘ in ‘yellow’ but with a stronger sound.”

A moment of silence.

“Ayio.”

Lexa cackles again and doesn’t stop when Clarke, outraged, slaps her on one shoulder as hard as she can manage. “This is why I didn’t want to tell you!”

Lexa shakes her head while she laughs. “Cristo Clarke,” she says, her voice cracked by the unstoppable chuckle. “You can’t understand how adorable you are!” She says and Clarke snorts, pushing her away with the hand pressing against her shoulder. Lexa doesn’t resist her and, placing the book on the covers, she sits, turning to face Clarke. She moves the blonde’s legs, pushing them closed, to straddle her thighs and trap the girl. Clarke is looking at her totally unimpressed, and when Lexa tries to kiss her she tilts her head away.

“Oh no, you’ve been mocking me for an _hour_ , don’t even think about that.”

Lexa shakes her head and, taking one of Clarke’s hands in hers, she kisses her palm. When she meets a blue, plain, stare again, her green eyes shine with affection and amusement.

“I’m serious,” Lexa’s voice drops an octave lower, to her usual alluring tone, her improper weapon that still defeats Clarke at once.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to survive _you_ talking in Italian,” Lexa says with honest enrapture in her lopsided grin and Clarke feels a slight blush creeping over her cheekbones, generated by the wild, untamed, devotion she sees pooling in that green forest.

“Welcome to my life.” She croaks, arching one eyebrow, and Lexa chuckles again. A shiver runs along her forearm, like a jolt channeled toward her heart, when Lexa’s plump lips press a kiss on her inner wrist.

“Say something for me in Italian, please.”

“ _Ti amo._ ”

Lexa huffs a chuckle against her skin, kissing the pulse point on her wrist again. Another shiver.

“Cheesy… Also you already said that to me, say something else.”

“It’s the only thing I’m interested in learning,” Clarke answers at once.

Lexa rolls her eyes to express her smugness and obvious sarcasm. “What about Lasagne? I still have to teach you how to say ‘gn’.”

“I know how to say Lasagne,” Clarke snorts and the brunette shakes her head with an amused grin.

“No you don’t, you say Lasanie. It’s _Lasagne._ ”

“Lexa… it’s the same thing.”

“No, it isn’t.”

Clarke grunts in exasperation, moving her hand away from Lexa’s hold in annoyance. “Sometimes I hate you, I swear.”

“No, you don’t,” Lexa grins again, shaking her head as she leans forward. She follows Clarke’s movement when the blonde tries to cock her head away again, and in the kiss she presses against the blonde’s soft lips she feels Clarke’s smile growing. They get lost again in the gentle grip that takes them outside the real world. Accompanying them in their personal, intimate refuge of bliss and fulfilling void.

The grammar book falls from the bed with a hard thud, unnoticed by now deafened ears.

 

“L’hai detto a mamma e papà?”         / _Did_ _you tell to mom and dad?_ /

Lexa frowns, looking at her sister, who is brushing her hair in front of the mirror above her modern wooden cabinet. Lexa closes the book she had been reading, waiting for Anya to be ready to go to bed, and places it on her nightstand. She lifts her glasses, resting them on the top of her head and crosses her ankles, her long legs stretched on the covers of her bed.

“Ho detto cosa?”         / _Did I tell, what?_ /

Anya stops for a second, waving the brush and shooting at her a cutting glare through the reflection in the mirror. “Di Clarke.” / _About Clarke_ /

Lexa shrugs. “No, voglio farlo quando torno a casa per Natale.”   / _No, I want to do it when I’ll go back home for Christmas_ /

“Perchè? Usa skype.” / _Why? Do it on Skype_ /

Anya frowns a bit, looking back at her sister, painted behind her in the reflective glass surface. Lexa shakes her head briefly, closing her eyes for a moment.

“No, per me è importante e voglio dirglielo di persona.”   / _No, it’s important for me and I want to tell them in person/_

“Ok, capito.”    / _Alright, got it_ /

There’s a moment of silence while Anya casually places the brush on the dresser, making Lexa’s eyes roll, the younger girl annoyed by her lack of tidiness. She has seen Anya’s tattoo salon and it’s so clean and aseptic that it could be used for surgical operations. Then there’s Anya’s house, which is probably the most accurate human experiment about black holes and force of gravity. Everything is chaotically misplaced in a perfect disorder, of which only Anya can understand the pattern and tortuous arrangement.

The older girl circumvents the bed, sliding under the covers to lay beside her sister, and Lexa slips her legs under the blankets at the same time. They lay one next to the other, their shoulders barely touching.

“Pensi avranno qualcosa in contrario?” Lexa asks, turning her head toward Anya, chewing on her lower lip. Her eyes are darkened by a flash of irrational fear.       / _Do you think they’ll have anything against it?_ /

Anya smiles, shaking her head. “No se porti a casa voti pazzeschi come hai sempre fatto, li conosci, vogliono solo che tu ti impegni in ciò che hai scelto.” / _Not if you get amazing grades like you’ve always done, you know them, they just want you to put an effort into what you chose to do_ /

Lexa sighs, “Hai ragione…” She says, convinced by Anya’s words and by the knowledge that her family fully supports her in her life’s choices and in what she simply can’t change about herself. / _You’re right_ /

The two sisters slide on the sheets, laying their heads on the cushion almost in the same moment, and Lexa rolls to one side. Her sister presses her chest against her back after a moment, hugging her waist. The gesture has the sweet, comforting flavor of old childhood habits. The distinct, clear memory of those nights when Lexa padded along the silent hallway that separated their rooms, sneaking into Anya’s room and slipping into her bed, finding a refuge from her bad dreams in her sister’s embrace. Their mother pretended not to know, knocking on both their doors in the morning to wake them up, calling their names. Lexa huffs a laugh when a flash enlightens her mind.

“Ti ricordi quella volta in cui ci siamo svegliate e stavo succhiando il tuo pollice invece del mio?”   / _Do you remember that time when we woke up and I was sucking on your thumb instead of mine?_ /  
“Certo che me la ricordo, piccolo disgustoso animale… La mamma dovette metterti lo smalto al peperoncino per farti smettere con quel vizio.”

/ _Of course I do you disgusting little animal… Mom had to apply pepper nail polish to you to make you drop that habit_ /

They both laugh as they remember Anya waking up, a deafening yell reverberating against the walls of her room, when she had realized Lexa had her thumb in her mouth. Their parents had rushed into the room, scared that something serious had actually happened. They remember the pale face of their dad, trying to blink away his terror while his wife started cackling beside him.

“Vorrei fargliela conoscere, prima o poi, sai. Portarla a casa,” Lexa says when their laughter fades. She curls up closer to Anya and her sister props herself against the bed with her elbow, her chin resting on Lexa’s shoulder.           / _I want them to get to know her, sooner or later, you know. Bring her home_ /

“Sei davvero persa, L.”           Anya mocks her, but Lexa answers after a second, with a serious voice and a sigh of surrender.        / _You’re so lost, L_ /

“Sì… temo anche io.”             / _Yea… I’m afraid so_ /

Anya laughs, “Nonna impazzirà, lo sai vero?” She presses her nose against Lexa’s shoulder, trying to hold back her cackle. “Friggerà anche le ciabatte!”                / _Granma will go nuts, you know that, right? -  She’ll even fry her slippers!_ /

Lexa groans, massaging the root of her nose between her index finger and thumb, but she can’t prevent an amused grin from cracking her lips open. “Sì lo so”.          / _Yes, I know_ /

“Però la adoreranno, lo sai. Ho approvato io, ormai il più è fatto”  / _But they’ll love her, you know that. I approved, at this point the worst is over!/_

“Giusto, l’idra l’abbiamo abbattuta,” Lexa scoffs and the older girl smacks her lips in disappointment, pinching Lexa’s waist and making the brunette scoot her hips away with an annoyed snort.                 / _That’s right, the Hydra is shot down_ /

“Che stronza… Potrei vendicarmi sai? Proporre a mamma e papà di venire tutti qua a trovarti.”                     / _You’re an asshole… I could take revenge you know? Suggest to mom and dad to come here all together to pay you a visit_ /

“Anya… non osare.” Lexa swallows hard, the perspective of their family wandering around the campus has the ghostly aura of those horror movies that ends saying the plot is based on a true story. “Se lo fai giuro che ti ammazzo.”

Her voice is dangerously serious, but Anya just laughs again, her head finding the pillow, where she sinks with satisfaction.               / _Anya… Don’t you dare. If you do that, I swear I’ll kill you_ /

“Sì sì… certo Comandante.”              / _Yes, yes… of course, Commander_ /

“Smettila.”       / _Stop_./

Lexa rolls her eyes when Anya chuckles again. The brunette is utterly aware that her sister is taking way too much entertainment in mocking her so she just drops the argument. The wise know when to withdraw.

The younger Woods opts for a change of subject. “Cos’hai fatto per tutto il giorno?”            / _What did you do the whole day_?/

“Sono stata a TonDC, ho fatto spese, girato la città… Ho incontrato l’amica di Clarke…” She snaps her fingers, as if she doesn’t remember her name.                       / _I’ve been in TonDC, I went shopping, visited the city… I met Clarke’s friend_ /

“Raven?”

“Sì, lei… abbiamo preso un caffè.”   / _Yes, her… We had coffee (together)_ /

Lexa frowns, “Perchè?”                      / _Why_?/

Anya rolls onto her back, letting her sister go as she observes the ceiling, while Lexa turns off the small lamp on her bedpost before mimicking her position.  
“Boh, mi sta simpatica, è in gamba.”Anya simply answers after a moment in a dismissing tone. Lexa turns her head toward her sister, but her eyes, not yet adapted to the change of illumination and not able to focus on shapes in the dark, can’t see the wrinkle carved between Anya’s eyebrows. Anya is immersed in her thoughts, and Lexa understands it’s the moment to leave the older girl to her pondering. It’s a typical Anya habit to get lost in her own head at some point, shutting down and lifting every bridge, leaving herself closed off.    / _Dunno, I like her (she’s funny), she’s smart_ /

“Ok… Buonanotte allora,” the brunette says after a moment, closing her eyes.  / _Ok… Goodnight then_ /

“Buonanotte Comandante.” Anya scoffs with a serious tone, emulating military seriousness.   / _Goodnight Commander_ /

“Sta zitta, o dormi nel corridoio.”      / _Shut up, or you’ll sleep in the hallway_ /     

Anya doesn’t answer, she just huffs a husky laugh before letting the silence slip into the room. She hears Lexa’s breath slowing and her own thoughts become heavy and messy, reality mixing with dreams and unconscious plots of events which never happened. She tastes the faint, unpleasantly sweet ghost of the infamous coffee on her tongue and she sees a blurred blonde guy in front of her. She has never liked blonde guys.

Black. Raven-black is definitely a better color.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friggerà anche le ciabatte we say this shit so many times. SO MANY TIMES. It means she will cook so much food that she’ll end up cooking even slippers.
> 
> Boh, mi sta simpatica, è in gamba This is like the most untranslatable sentence I have ever translated, literally means “I don’t know, to me she is funny/nice, she’s in leg”  
> Yes, being in leg means you’re cool, don’t ask me why I don’t know.  
> And Boh is like… the supreme word. We always say boh when you don’t know or don’t care.  
> You can have a whole conversation only with body language and onomatopoeias.

**Author's Note:**

> All my thanks and love to my betas and saviors: white_russian and lexfly. 
> 
> Interact with me on tumblr: italianlexa.tumblr.com


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